


It Could Be You

by StalkerDex



Category: South Park
Genre: Angst and Romance, Angst and Tragedy, Drama & Romance, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Drama, M/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 59,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29583117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StalkerDex/pseuds/StalkerDex
Summary: Craig is actively pursuing Stan's girflriend, Wendy, to entertain himself.  However, as he's out for a joyride with her one evening a tragic accident occurs and he loses his mother, father and sister.  Upon their loss, he learns that his biological father is Randy Marsh.  As he quickly finds himself falling for Wendy and caring about the Marsh family, he struggles to correct the course of his life and confront his own pain.  A story of love, healing, and family.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Eric Cartman, Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger, Wendy Testaburger/Craig Tucker
Kudos: 11





	1. Ditch

**Author's Note:**

> (Author's Note: I wrote this story before Tweek and Craig became canon on the show, so as such Craig's sexuality is assumed to be straight in this particular story).

Loud music blared from Craig Tucker's truck as he sped along the winding, country roads on the outskirts of South Park, Colorado. Wendy Testaburger was in the passenger seat. She hadn't wanted to go with him but, well, there was just something about him. He was so goddamn charming, he could practically get anything he wanted if he set his mind to it. He was almost as convincing as that asshole Cartman. Almost. However, the key difference between the two of them in Wendy's opinion was his dark, angsty nature. She found his brooding to be wildly attractive, as much as she hated to admit it.

"Can you slow down?" she demanded, her heart pounding heavily. She was terrified, but also, a little excited.

Craig puffed on his cigarette carelessly, his messy raven black hair blowing in the wind. He didn't say a word, pressing down even harder on the gas pedal. Wendy's petite frame pressed further into the back of her seat at the sudden acceleration. Her heart was pounding even harder as her breathing became erratic. She was just straight up frightened now.

"Jesus, Craig! Slow the fuck down!" she hollered, finding herself in utter disbelief that she'd allowed herself to be in this situation in the first place.

Craig rolled his eyes and slammed on his breaks entirely too hard. The car started to squeal, spinning out violently. Wendy screamed, squeezing her eyes shut and clutching onto the door handle, struggling to hold herself in place. It felt like it was happening in slow motion as the car spun wildly. Wendy was terrified as the bright reflection of headlights shined back at her from the snow and trees they were rapidly approaching. Craig, on the other hand, felt his heart begin to race as the overwhelming excitement of possible death overcame him. His cigarette dropped from his hand to the floor as he hollered out with exhilaration in his voice, caught up in the thrill of it all. However, better heads prevailed as he remembered Wendy was in the car with him, causing him to panic as he decided to try and get the vehicle under control.

Wendy was screaming, grabbing his leg fearfully as he jerked the wheel, causing the car to run off of the road and slam into a snow filled ditch. Both of them snapped forward, restrained by their seatbelts. Unfortunately, the airbags failed to deploy and Wendy's head hit the dashboard.

"Oh, shit…" Craig said, quickly unbuckling himself.

Wendy immediately began to holler as she put her hand to her head, blood trickling down her forehead between her fingers.

"Shit," Craig continued to mutter as he unbuckled himself and slid into the middle seat, slamming his fist into the radio to shut it off.

"Fuck…are you okay?" he asked as he touched her arms, urging her to show him the injury.

Wendy continued to cry, her body shivering uncontrollably as she struggled to process the sudden trauma. Craig pried at her hands gently, and she reluctantly allowed him to pull them away and expose the injury.

"Alright," he mumbled as he opened his glove box and pulled a small package of tissues out. He opened it up and pulled out a handful before tenderly brushing some of Wendy's bloodied hair out of her face. He dabbed at the injury carefully as tears continued to fall down her beautiful face. She wasn't shouting anymore, at least.

"Are you okay? Seriously, Wendy, I'm sorry," he rambled. He really did regret having put her in that situation. It was one thing to do by himself, which he did often, but another to put someone else in harm's way.

"What the Hell is wrong with you? Why would you do that?" she demanded, though she didn't bother to push him away. She figured he could at least clean up her injury since he'd caused it.

"I don't know, Wendy. I'm sorry, really," he apologized as he continued to hold the tissues on her injury.

"God…I don't even know why I came out here with you. I don't even like you," she continued, reveling in her anger of the whole thing.

Craig didn't acknowledge her comments, understanding she was just venting. He focused on the injury, pulling the tissues away to assess how bad it was. Her light, almost amethyst colored eyes scanned his face, waiting to hear what he thought.

"Is it bad?"

He smiled at her, "No. It's not too bad. Just a small scratch. Way more blood than actual damage."

She let out a relieved sigh, her shoulders dropping as she looked him over, a little defeated.

"I'm sorry," he said once more, wadding up the tissues and throwing them in the glove box. He dug out a small package of bandaids and opened it up.

"Ew, are you seriously going to keep those tissues in there?"

"Uh…I guess. I dunno. Why?"

Wendy rolled her eyes before focusing on him again, "Why did you ask me out tonight?"

He placed the bandaid on her cut, after which she pulled a ponytail holder from her wrist, tying her hair up high. She wanted her bloodied hair out of her face.

Craig leaned against the back of his seat, letting out a small sigh as the adrenaline wore off.

"I dunno. I just wanted to hang out with you."

Wendy tilted her head, looking skeptically toward him, "you know I'm with Stan."

"Yeah, I know," he shrugged, averting his eyes to his lap.

As Wendy looked him over she couldn't help but notice the fact that his nonchalant attitude was getting to her. He was so goddamn smug; sitting there, acting like he didn't care whether he had her or not. He was such a dick.

"I see you checking me out, Testaburger," he teased as she blinked, realizing she'd been staring at him. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up.

"Yeah, well I see you checking me out all of the time, Tucker," she retorted.

He let out an amused laugh as he puffed on his cigarette, his lust-filled blue eyes catching Wendy's attention as he blatantly looked her over. She couldn't help but blush a little beneath his gaze, noting that she'd chosen a more revealing outfit intentionally when he'd asked her out. She was feeding a dangerous fire and she knew it.

"Yeah, well, it's kind of hard not to. You're the most beautiful girl at school," he replied, returning his gaze to her face, "I never understood why you waste your time on that douche bag Stan. You're way too good for him."

Wendy rolled her eyes before leaning forward and holding her hand out, "give me a hit of that."

Craig raised his eyebrows and flashed her that boyish grin of his, "You know this is, like, unhealthy, right?" he teased. He'd always assumed she was kind of prudish.

"Yes, dumbass, I know," she retorted, snatching it from his hand and taking a sizeable drag from it. She leaned back and tilted her head, slowly exhaling. She knew what she was doing as she exposed her neck to him.

Craig nodded and let out another amused laugh, "Okay, okay…fair enough."

She smirked at him as she lifted her legs to her chest, wrapping her free arm around them.

"What's your problem with Stan, anyway?"

"Pffft…a better question is what _isn't_ my problem with Stan."

"Oh, stop it," Wendy warned, taking another drag from the cigarette before handing it back.

Craig took it from her, quickly reaching out his free hand and grabbing a hold of hers. She scoffed at him before jerking her hand away from him and leaning back into her seat, folding both of her arms around her legs.

"Hands off, Tucker."

Craig sighed, leaning into the seat again and killing off the cigarette. Wendy watched curiously as he lifted the bottom of his jeans up, exposing a small, circular, reddened area of skin.

"Jesus…what is that?"

Craig looked toward her with those crystal blue eyes of his before smirking, blowing the smoke from his mouth and pressing the lit cigarette to the reddened area.

"Oh my God…you are so stupid. Why would you do that?" she was genuinely appalled.

Craig shrugged, "I dunno. I kinda like it."

Wendy shook her head, widening her eyes in exasperation, "You're kind of strange, aren't you?"

Craig smiled and nodded, "yeah, I guess so."

A long moment of silence passed between them before Wendy let out a sigh and leaned forward, dropping her legs.

"So, seriously, Craig. What's the deal? Why are we out here?"

Craig looked her over for just a moment before leaning forward and touching his hand to her forehead, near the bandaid. He brushed her skin gently with his fingers, sliding them down her face and stopping on her cheek. She blinked at him, this time not bothering to swat him away.

"I like you, that's why."

"No you don't. You just don't like Stan so you're messing with me."

Craig tilted his head. He couldn't deny that was a bonus.

"Fair enough," he relented, "but you have to admit, you wouldn't have come out here if you weren't at least a _little_ bit interested."

He slid his hand downwards, trailing her collarbone with his fingers.

"Fair enough," she said quietly, her breath growing shallow, "but I won't cheat on Stan, no matter how hard you try."

Craig smirked at her, abruptly placing both of his hands on her hips, leaning in close.

"What if you don't do anything?"

"What are you talking about?" she was playing dumb, trying to blow him off.

"You know, like…I could get you off. You don't have to do anything."

"Fuck off, Craig. Jesus…aren't you with Bebe?" she said as she pushed him away again. He complied, leaning against the seat.

"There is a big difference between _with_ and _banging_."

She rolled her eyes again, "ugh…you're so gross."

She turned her attention outside, "so can we get the truck out of this ditch, then?"

Craig let out a sigh as he looked out the front window. He hoped to Christ he could get out of there. His dad would be pissed if he found out about this debacle.

"I dunno…let me see," he said, suddenly fixated on the need to get the truck out. He really had no desire to get busted.

Wendy immediately sat forward and buckled herself in, not wanting to find herself unbuckled with Craig at the wheel; clearly he was insane. Craig also buckled before turning the key and starting the engine.

"Well, that's a good sign," he acknowledged.

Wendy nodded in agreement, watching as he put the truck in reverse. She mentally crossed her fingers, not wanting to be stuck in the snow with this psycho all night. Much to their relief, the small truck immediately made it out of the ditch and back into the road. Wendy let out a sigh as she adjusted herself in her seat. Craig was far more careful as he drove her home. It wasn't long before they reached her house. He pulled up along the curb to avoid disturbing Wendy's family; it was pretty late. He shifted into park and turned to smile at her.

"Have a good night, Wendy Testaburger. If you ever want to take me up on my offer, you just let me know."

It took her a moment to register what he meant. She rolled her eyes when she remembered his proposition to passively cheat, hopping out of the car. However, before slamming the door behind her she paused, looking curiously toward him. He stared at her blankly, not sure what she was doing.

"Fuck it," she said, exasperated, as she hopped back into the truck and planted a flirtatious kiss on his cheek.

He wanted more, but he could tell he was going to have to take it easy with her. He smiled at her, watching quietly as she hopped out of the truck again and bounded off toward her house.

Jesus. She was a pistol.


	2. Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig discovers the truth.

Craig smoked his cigarette listlessly as he drove toward his house. Damn, he was really intrigued by Wendy. She had him in a way that no other girl had ever gotten him before. It wasn't any secret that he was the kind of guy that would take advantage, something he actually took some pride in. There was something different about Wendy, though; she had his full attention. Sure, at first he'd only taken an interest in her as a way to get under that asshole Stan's skin, but the more he interacted with her, the more respect he gained for her. He didn't just want to fuck her. He wanted her to belong to him.

He let out a sigh as he carelessly flicked on the CD player, dissonant rock music blaring seductively. There was nothing like a good, abstract song to soothe his relentless frustrations. As he continued to drive, he tapped is hand on the steering wheel and dragged on the cigarette hungrily, his mind consumed with thoughts of what he wanted to do with Wendy's tantalizing body. Fuck. He'd never wanted anything so badly in his life; admittedly, it might've been because she kept telling him no. Women never said that to him.

As his house came into sight, his thoughts abruptly switched from lust to concern as he noted a police car in the driveway. What the hell was going on? He looked on with curiosity as he pulled up alongside the curb, shutting the car off and hopping out. He couldn't help but notice his heart beat quickening as he strode up the driveway, spotting Sergeant Yates at his front door.

"Hello?" Craig asked, fiddling nervously with his car keys.

Yates shifted uncomfortably, sympathy in his eyes. Craig's heart was pounding fervently in his chest and his stomach was starting to ache. Oh shit, something was seriously wrong.

"Jesus…what is it?" Craig asked as he braced himself.

Yates sighed heavily, "Craig Tucker, right?"

"Yeah, I'm Craig."

Yates nodded once more before placing his hands on the poor kid's shoulders.

"Oh my God…" Craig spat out as he backed away, shrugging his hands off of his shoulders. He put his hands to his mouth as tears immediately started to pool in his eyes.

"I'm sorry…" Yates began, feeling sick to his stomach. He hated delivering this kind of news.

"No, no, no, no, no…" Craig said helplessly as he continued to cover his mouth with his hands.

"There was an accident. Your parents and sister were hit by a drunk driver. There were no survivors. I'm so sorry."

Craig felt his head spinning as he listened to the terrible news, almost feeling like it wasn't real. Much to his distaste, he couldn't control his visceral reaction, falling down to his knees and grabbing his head with his hands. What the fuck? How was this happening? His heart was pounding and he was breathing hard. Yates looked around uncomfortably before sighing and having himself a seat on the pavement beside the heartbroken kid. As Craig struggled to process the situation, Yates hesitantly put his hand on his shoulder. He bowed his head respectfully and waited for Craig to calm himself down. It took quite some time, but he did eventually manage to settle, sitting there utterly consumed with his new, tragic reality. He felt numb, even though tears had started to fall quietly down his cheeks.

"What's gonna happen to me?" he asked; though he was eighteen, there was no way he could manage to take care of himself. He didn't even have a job.

"I've already contacted your grandmother. She's on her way."

Craig's face was blank, giving Yates no reaction whatsoever, which made him incredibly uncomfortable. Nonetheless, he continued to sit there beside the strange, brooding young adult until his grandmother's car pulled up in the driveway. As she got out of the car Yates stood up, glancing sympathetically at Craig before approaching her. She, too, had tear stained cheeks as she reached out and shook his hand.

"Oh, thank you for being here when he got home. I can't imagine otherwise," she said, her voice quivering with age and heartache.

Yates put his hand atop hers, looking upon her sincerely.

"Of course, Mrs. Tucker; and if there's anything you or Craig need, please don't hesitate to contact me," he insisted.

"Yes, of course. Thank you."

Yates nodded at her before removing his hands, reaching into his pocket and locating a business card. He handed it to her, "there's my number. Again, don't hesitate."

Grandma Tucker nodded at him, watching graciously as he walked away and got into his cruiser. She waited until she heard him take off before approaching her grandson. She felt the enormous wait of indescribable loss as she looked down at his blank face. She knew that was just his way, so she quietly had a seat beside him and waited for him to speak.

"Am I coming to live with you?" he finally asked, not bothering to look at her. He loved his grandma. They'd always been close, but he wasn't about to be a pussy and cry in front of her.

She let out a troubled sigh before touching her hand to his chin, commanding his attention. He obliged, his eyes cold as he looked her over. God, he was such a handsome young man; she was so very proud to call him hers. She was so very grateful at least one of her grandchildren was still alive.

"Craig, you have an option. That's what I'm here to talk to you about."

Craig narrowed his eyes in confusion. What the hell options could he possibly have? Both of his parents were dead. His sister was dead. Grandma was the only other living relative he had now.

Grandma Tucker felt a small amount of guilt wash over her as she looked into those perplexed eyes of his. It was wrong that this information had been withheld from him for so long. It was something she'd fought with his parents over for years. In her opinion, he'd had a right to know.

"Craig, sweetie, you know you are _more_ than welcome to come and live with me. In fact, I would prefer it that way…but, there _is_ something you need to know."

Craig could see the distress on her face. He hated to see her like that, so he instinctively reached out and grabbed her hands. He could tell she needed his attention for this conversation, whatever the hell it was. She smiled at him softly, though her face melted back into shame and regret as she went on.

"Honey…Thomas wasn't your real father."

Craig's stomach dropped.

"W…what?" he stammered, his eyes wide with confusion.

His grandmother immediately reached out and touched his face, hating that she had to deliver this shocking news right after he'd found out his entire family was gone. Still, she had to put on a brave face. He deserved to know who his biological father was.

"When your mom and dad were newly-weds they went through a very rough time, honey. Your dad actually left your mom for a few months, taking off to do some, uh, soul searching."

Craig's eyes were fixated on her as he struggled to take in the information. She cleared her throat and continued.

"So, while your father was gone your mom met another man and, briefly, they had an affair. After your dad got whatever he needed out of his system he realized he did want the life he'd started with your mom. He came back and they worked things out, but while he had been away she'd gotten pregnant with you."

Craig looked absolutely mortified, which broke Grandma Tucker's heart. She hated to be so blunt, but she wasn't sure how else she could be.

"Dad knew I wasn't his?" Craig asked, struggling to sort things out.

Grandma Tucker nodded, "Yes. But he didn't care, sweetie. He loved you _so_ much."

Craig put his hand to his head, entirely sickened as the news settled in. As he struggled to deal with both the loss of his family and the knowledge that he had an entirely different family out there waiting for him, he realized there was only one more question to ask.

"So…who's my dad, then?"

His grandmother eyed him for a second before speaking cautiously, well aware he wasn't going to like the response.

"Randy Marsh."

Craig's blank face immediately flashed rage as he stood up.

"FUCK!" he shouted out, grabbing his hair and violently tugging at it for a second. His grandmother watched sympathetically as he shook with rage, taking several moments to gain control of himself. As he did, he moved his hands to the back of his head, turning his attention to his grandmother. She swallowed, her eyes filled with empathy for her beautiful grandson as he looked her over; he was broken and it frightened her. He'd always been so strong.

"Gramma…" he began, his voice wavering slightly. It tore at her heart even more.

"Yes, honey?" she said sweetly, doing her best to be a pillar for him.

"I need some time to think about this. Is it okay with you if I go and stay with Bebe tonight? I just…I don't know what I want to do right now."

She nodded towards him, understanding it was a lot to take. He extended his hand to help her as she stood from the ground, groaning. The simplest things became such a chore with age. Once she was upright, she faced him and touched her hand to his face, brushing his hair aside affectionately.

"I love you, Craig. Take all the time you need. We're going to get through this."

Craig nodded, tears welling behind his eyes again. He didn't allow them to fall. He had to be strong for his grandma. She noticed him fighting his emotions, so she pulled him in close for a hug. He wrapped his long, thin arms around her and clutched her tightly, almost afraid to let her go.

"I love you, too, Gramma," he assured, his voice strained. He was fighting back tears with everything he had and she could tell.

She felt her own tears start to fall quietly down her face. She didn't make a sound, rather, she broke their embrace and brushed his hair aside once more.

"You're a good kid, Craig. Don't lose sight of who you are. Promise me."

He looked down at her, a little confused by her statement. Even so, he reached out and gently wiped the tears from her face with his thumbs.

"I won't. I promise."

She eyed him for a moment, fearful that he wouldn't be able to pull through this. She was reluctant to let him go, but she also knew how headstrong he could be, so she pulled him in for one last brief hug before starting to walk away. Craig followed her, opening the car door for her and helping her in, making sure she didn't lose her footing. She was so much older and increasingly fragile; it had been hard for him to watch her age.

"Bye, Gramma. Let me know when you're home, okay?"

"Bye, sweetie. Tell Bebe I said hello."

Craig nodded before planting a loving kiss on her cheek and closing the door for her. He stepped back and folded his arms across his chest as he watched her take off. He felt a little saddened that he hadn't gone home with her. Still, he knew they would remain close. He just needed some space to wrap his head around things. He remained aimlessly standing in the driveway for several minutes, his mind almost numb as he did his best to push away his thoughts. He focused on his breathing.

In. Out. In. Out.

One fucking breath at a time.

However, despite his best efforts, his thoughts did eventually trail off to his family. First, he thought of his father. Fuck. His…adopted father? What the hell was he? He felt like he could vomit as he suddenly sat down on the pavement, putting his hands to his head and shutting his eyes hard.

Fuck. He did _not_ want to think about any of this. For his own defense, he quickly pulled out his phone and dialed Bebe. He knew damn well she was the only person who would come to his aid this late at night. He had her wrapped around his finger, despite the fact that he cheated on her regularly and everyone knew it. He had lied to Wendy when he'd said they weren't with each other. They'd been dating for several months now, though it was only because she'd forced his hand; she'd threatened to cut off the sex if he didn't comply, and he liked having the option there whenever he wanted so he'd acquiesced.

He sniffled a bit as he held the phone to his ear, relieved to hear her familiar voice on the other end.

" _Craig…what's up?_ "

"Uh, hey…can you come over? I…something really bad happened," he said, struggling to keep his voice steady. It was useless; she could immediately hear that something was really, _really_ wrong.

" _What happened?"_ she asked, her voice heavy with concern. He felt the slightest hint of regret for the way he'd been treating her as he took in the care she obviously held for him. Goddamnit, he was such an asshole.

"There was an accident…my family…my mom…my dad…my sister…they're all gone," he said, almost removed from himself as he spoke. He couldn't bear to actually think about the words he was saying and what they meant.

" _Oh my God,"_ she said, sounding entirely overwhelmed. He put his hand to his head and ran it through his hair before dropping it back to his lap.

" _I'll be right there, babe,"_ she continued, a sense of urgency about her.

He nodded to himself as though she could see. They didn't say anything else as they both hung up, knowing they'd be together soon. Craig shoved his phone into his pocket before pulling out his cigarettes and lighting another. He tried to focus on it as he took a long drag, noting the pleasant feel of nicotine rushing throughout his body. Still, there wasn't anything in the world that could keep his mind off of things. Nothing could change what had happened.

He continued to smoke as his mind wandered back to his father. One particular memory stuck out in his head and it was one he knew he was going to treasure. It had been just last summer; he and Clyde had had their first real fight with each other. He was so distraught because he'd slept with Clyde's girlfriend, Red, and had been caught. The two of them had been best friends their entire lives and he'd gone and screwed around with his girlfriend. Once he'd found out, they'd gotten into a fist fight; Craig of course beat the shit out of him. Clyde didn't stand a chance.

He grimaced a little as he thought about it. It wasn't something he was proud of. None of it. He'd felt like the biggest asshole on the planet, and it did destroy their friendship. The two of them didn't speak at all anymore. On the rare occasion they were subject to one another's presence, where there had once been a warm, safe friendship sat only the weight of long, heavy silence.

After they'd had it out, Craig had obviously gone home a distraught wreck. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that felt good about beating the shit out of his best friend. He'd never felt so bad about anything in his life up until that point and, when he'd gotten home, his dad immediately knew something serious had occurred.

_"Craig…what happened to you? You're a mess!" Thomas questioned as his bloodied, dirt covered son entered the house._

_"Nothing, Dad. It's fine," he insisted, doing his best to get past him without having to explain himself. He was ashamed and had no desire to admit what he'd done out loud._

_"Hey!" Thomas demanded, grabbing Craig by the shoulder and forcing eye contact. Craig swallowed uncomfortably, his eyes wide with surprise, "sit down."_

_As defiant as Craig could be, he knew better than to push it just then. He walked over to the couch and had himself a seat, feeling nervous as Thomas sat down and started to talk._

_"Now, we're a family that communicates. Tell me what happened."_

_At first, Craig had been filled with resentment. Still, he'd decided to comply anyway._

_"I fucked Clyde's girlfriend. We got in a fight."_

_He'd expected his dad to fly off the handle, but he didn't. In fact, he surprised him by being compassionate._

_"Well…Craig…it's okay. These things happen. You're young and you're…hormonal. I actually did something pretty similar when I was your age, believe it or not."_

_Craig cringed at the thought of his dad having sex. It just wasn't something he wanted to think about._

_"Dad, it's cool. We really don't need to talk about this."_

_"Relax," he interrupted, "I'm not going to tell you about it. My point is, you're young. You're just making your way into the world and you're going to make some mistakes along the way. Don't beat yourself up too much. Things have a way of working themselves out in the end. Really. You'd be surprised."_

_Craig stared at him blankly, as he so often did with adults. His dad smirked at him before nudging his arm playfully._

_"Lighten up, kiddo. Seriously, it's all going to be okay. High school is a bunch of bullshit anyway. Trust me, you'll look back on this one day and laugh about it."_

_Craig looked him over skeptically, though he had to admit he did feel a little comforted. He let out a sigh before rolling his eyes and smirking back at his dad._

_"Yeah, alright. Thanks, Dad."_

_"Anytime," he said as he watched Craig stand up and start heading off towards his room. He couldn't help himself, he had to get in one more cheeky remark._

_"And Craig…"_

_His son stopped in his tracks, turning to look at him in confusion. Thomas smiled at him, thoroughly amused._

_"Try to think with the head that holds your brain next time, son."_

_Craig rolled his eyes dramatically before disappearing up the stairs, leaving his dad on the couch chuckling._

Craig swallowed hard as he killed off his cigarette, pain seizing his heart. Luckily, Bebe was pulling into his driveway. Now he could distract himself from all of the bullshit. He didn't bother to stand as he watched his girlfriend hurry out of her small car, dressed in a snug red sweater and jeans. Her long, curly hair was down around her shoulders. He liked when she wore it that way.

"Hey…" he greeted quietly as she sat down beside him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her head against him.

"Hey," she offered, sympathy in her voice. Fuck. He hadn't invited her over to pity him.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a small amount of comfort as he stared aimlessly ahead, enjoying the warm feel of her body against his. They sat that way for a pretty long time, neither of them saying a word. He realized they were going to have to talk at some point, though, so he leaned away from her and looked into her eyes. She swallowed nervously; she had no clue what to say.

"It's okay, Bebe. There's nothing to say. Nothing's going to make this any better. Just be here with me," he offered, knowing she was uncomfortable. Her face was still sympathetic as he reached out and rubbed her cheek affectionately with his thumb. He couldn't really explain it, but he did genuinely appreciate her company in that moment. She was a good person.

Bebe was fairly overwhelmed by the whole situation. Not only had she just received the shocking news about his family, but this was honestly the first time Craig had ever asked her to do anything without the expectation of sex. He'd never just called her because he needed or wanted her around. Perhaps things were progressing between them? In all honesty, she was head over heels in love with him. She wouldn't dare say it for fear of scaring him off; she knew he was emotionally stunted.

Craig could see the discomfort and confusion on her face, so he gently reached out and grabbed her hand.

"I just want you here, that's all," he assured.

She smiled softly toward him, though she didn't look overly happy.

"I'm here then," she said, leaning in and giving him a kiss.

Normally when she would kiss him he would immediately ravage her, but tonight he simply couldn't. Tonight he felt like a part of him had died. Of course, in actuality, the core of who he was had.

"C'mon…let's go lay down," he said as he took her hand and stood up. She followed in silence as they went inside, making their way to his bedroom.

Once they were in his room, Craig removed his clothes, leaving only his briefs and t-shirt on. He slipped into the bed and pulled his covers up to his chin. Bebe also stripped down to her sweater and underwear, sliding under the covers beside him. She felt a wave of empathy wash over her as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face below her neck, allowing her to rest her head atop his. She'd never seen him vulnerable like this before; it broke her heart.

As Craig clutched onto her needily as he relished in the warmth of her skin. He paid close attention to her slow heart beat, the blood pumping through her veins; the warm, intoxicating feel of her living, breathing body. Yes, tonight he could settle for a warm, living person holding him close.

Tonight, all he needed was life.


	3. Craig's A Badass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig has an altercation with Bebe.

Stan was sitting at the lunch table, eagerly chatting with Kyle, Kenny and Cartman. They would meet there every morning to hang out and swap homework before class. They all had pretty bad cases of senioritis, so they'd systematically delegated the homework amongst themselves so no one had to actually do more than one or two classes worth in a day.

"Here," Kenny said happily as he passed his science homework to Cartman.

Cartman eagerly took it before handing over his English.

"Make sure you change the words, asshole," Eric demanded. He never actually thanked any of them for sharing, despite the fact he was rather lucky they included him at all. The main reason they did in the first place was because he was so damn good at pretty much every subject. Go figure. The fat, racist asshole _would_ be one of the smartest kids in school. Kenny grumbled under his breath.

"Here's the government answers," Stan said, blatantly ignoring the irritation between Cartman and Kenny as he handed his work to Kyle.

"Thanks, dude," he said graciously as he passed his math homework to Stan.

Stan nodded to show his appreciation as he started to copy the answers. Wendy was sitting beside Stan, all too aware of their little system. She knew good and well one of these days they would get caught but, despite her issues and concerns with his boyish laziness, she let it slide. After all, it _was_ senior year and graduation was just around the corner. What was the harm, really?

"Stan," Wendy said, leaning in close.

Despite his concentration on cheating, he abruptly set his pencil down and put his arm around her. He was always very attentive with her, a sentiment enjoyed. He liked how masculine it made him feel, so he was always more than willing to pull her in for a good squeeze.

"What is it, Babe?" he asked fondly, holding her close and touching his hand to her chin.

She smiled sweetly toward him as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer.

"Kiss," she stated rather simply.

His smile broadened as he realized she was being flirtatious. He wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her affectionately.

"Gross. Get a room, Jesus tap-dancing Christ," Cartman grumbled, squinching his nose up at them. He hated it when they got all physical in front of him.

"Screw you, Cartman," Stan said unenthusiastically, keeping his arms around Wendy; though he did turn to face his 'friend'.

"Yeah, don't be jealous. Just because you're not getting any doesn't mean the rest of us aren't!" Kenny teased, poking Cartman's arm in an effort to annoy him. Much to his enjoyment, it did.

"Goddamnit, Kenny! I told you. I can have any girl I want! It's not my fault this school is full of trashy whores."

Wendy raised one of her eyebrows at Cartman, quietly warning he'd better shut the hell up. He met her gaze before rolling his eyes and letting out a vexed sigh.

"Except for Wendy, of course," he added in an effort to get her off his back.

He was displeased to see her still staring at him. Even worse, she seemed to be looking at him with the familiar expression of a woman unimpressed, irking him all the more.

"Alright, alright. Jesus. I'm sorry," he spat out, his cheeks reddening with frustration as he quickly turned his attention back to copying Kenny's work.

Wendy rolled her eyes and nuzzled up to Stan, quietly happy that she'd gotten Cartman so flustered. She enjoyed putting him in his place more than she probably should have. However, her demeanor quickly changed as she spotted Bebe entering the cafeteria, dark circles under her eyes.

"Hey, Bebe," Wendy greeted as she patted the empty seat beside her, "Jesus…are you okay?" she asked as Bebe sat down, running her hand through her hair and sighing heavily.

All the boys paused their diligent cheating, somewhat intrigued by Bebe's distressed demeanor.

"Yeah, what's the matter Bebe? Did Tucker finally knock you up?" Cartman chuckled maliciously. Kenny elbowed him angrily, causing him to shut up and pout.

Wendy shot him a nasty look before reaching out and squeezing her friend's shoulder in an attempt to get her to talk.

"Goddamnit, Cartman. You're suck a dick," Bebe grumbled. She hoped he felt really rotten when she told them what was bothering her.

"Look," she started, eyeing everyone at the table, "you guys need to be nice to Craig, okay? His family got hit by a drunk driver last night."

Wendy immediately put her hand to her mouth, shocked. Holy shit…if she hadn't have gone out with him last night he might've been with them!

"Jesus," Stan said, actually feeling kind of bad for Craig, "are they alright?"

Bebe shook her head, "that's why I'm so tired. I was at his house with him all night last night. He kept having all of these nightmares. They're all dead…his mom, dad, sister…they're all gone."

"Oh my God…where's he going to live?" Kyle asked, utterly dumbfounded.

Bebe shrugged, "I don't know. We didn't talk all that much."

Cartman scoffed, immediately earning disgusted looks from everyone. He couldn't help himself.

"Of course you didn't. You know Tucker only dates you so he can fuck you, right?"

Bebe immediately felt her face run hot as she slammed her fist into the table.

"Shut up, Cartman! You don't know anything about him!"

Eric shut his mouth abruptly, though he did continue to glare at her. She was so stupid for dating that piece of shit Craig. She could do so much better…

Bebe's hands were trembling as she stared Cartman down, though her face changed quickly as her eyes fell upon Craig carelessly strolling into the lunch room. Everyone at the table noticed him, too; particularly Wendy.

"Jesus…" Kyle said quietly as they all watched him walk over to Token, chatting casually with him. He definitely looked more tired than usual, but otherwise he appeared normal. The small group of teenagers continued to watch until Craig somewhat took notice, his eyes falling on Bebe. He swallowed and shoved his hands into his pockets before nudging Token with his elbow, apparently saying goodbye.

Wendy almost involuntarily scooted closer to Stan, wrapping her arm around his. He took notice for just a second, though quickly followed suit with the rest of them as Craig walked up to Bebe.

"C'mon," he said, tilting his head away from the table, indicating his lack of desire to hang out with this crowd. He hated it when she hung out with those assholes; he only put up with it because she was so close with Wendy. Today, however, he wasn't in the mood.

"Huh?" Bebe asked, narrowing her eyes at him a little. Was he trying to boss her around? What did he think this was, the 1920's?

"Why are you here, Craig…? Shouldn't you be home?" she asked.

Craig stared at her blankly for a moment.

"My gramma wanted me to come to school. Are you seriously talking about this right now? Have you already told everyone what happened?" he demanded, genuinely irritated that she was spreading his business. It wasn't her information to give.

Bebe blinked at him, a look of guilt on her face. He shook his head and let out an aggravated laugh.

"Wow…okay. Jesus, Bebe. I didn't want everyone knowing this shit yet. What the hell is the matter with you?"

"I…I'm sorry…I just was telling them because…"

"Fuck off…" he spat out, surprising even himself for a moment.

She stared at him for a moment. He felt his face running hot as he reached down to grab her arm. He just wanted her to get away from the rest of them. Suddenly, however, Eric stood up. He would be damned if he was going to let Craig start getting physical with her. Craig looked up at him, a little shocked as he slowly realized everyone at the table was ready to pounce on him if he got any more aggressive. He felt a sudden stab of guilt in his chest as he let go of her arm and looked down at her shocked face. He swallowed hard before stepping back, lifting his hands in the air to signify his surrender. He still looked entirely frustrated. Bebe reached out and grabbed his hand, giving Wendy just the slightest pang of jealousy in her stomach. She gripped onto Stan a little tighter.

"I'm sorry. I only told them because I didn't want them to mess with you," she explained.

"I can handle myself," he insisted as he yanked his hand back. Sure, he felt bad about grabbing her, but he wasn't about to get all sentimental; especially not in front of Wendy. Not to mention he didn't want to sit down and spend his morning with Stan, of all people.

Fuck. Stan. His…brother?

His eyes darted towards him; he was sort of curious about him in light of their familial connection. Stan could feel his gaze, so he lifted his eyes up to meet Craig's. He felt immediately uncomfortable; Craig didn't care. As he looked Stan over, he was a little struck that he hadn't considered it sooner. There was definitely a physical resemblance. They both had thick black hair, blue eyes, and thin frames. Craig was a little taller, and his eyes were a lighter shade, but the similarities were kind of striking now that he knew.

"I know you can," Bebe continued, oblivious to the quiet exchange between him and Stan, "I was just trying to help."

Craig eyed Stan for a few more seconds before shaking it off and looking towards Bebe.

"Well…quit it, okay? Fuck. Why do you always have to try so hard? I'm not gonna wake up one day and magically give a shit about you. Don't get me wrong…I'm glad you were there for me last night, but…Christ! I fucking cheat on you all the time and you know it! _Everyone_ knows it. Why don't you just leave already? At least then I'd have a little respect for you…"

"Craig," Stan warned in that 'c'mon dude' sort of tone. Bebe startled everyone as she stood up and slammed her fist on the table.

"I didn't know you cheated on me, asshole!" she shouted, grabbing his arm and yanking him forward. Much to her irritation, and everyone else's surprise, he smiled at her and let out a laugh.

"Yeah, well, I do," he retorted, yanking his arm away from her again.

Bebe stared at him in disbelief, "how many girls?"

Craig shrugged before speaking coldly, "I dunno. Five. Six?"

Bebe's eyes widened. It felt like a dagger to the heart.

"What the hell, Craig! I should've just left you to rot last night! To think I actually sat there and listened to your heartless ass crying all goddamn night!" she shouted before shoving him forcefully and storming away from him.

Cartman immediately stood up, shooting Craig an angry glance as he hurried after Bebe.

An awkard silence settled over the rest of the table as Craig scratched the back of his head, quietly watching as Eric started to console Bebe on the other side of the room. It was no secret he wanted her, and he was more than likely using the opportunity to make her his. Good riddance. He could have her.

Craig's face reddened a little as he realized he'd just completely lost it in front of everyone. Maybe he should've stayed home. He clearly wasn't ready to deal with all the assholes he went to school with. As he found himself lost in thought, his eyes found their way to Wendy, his stomach lightening as he saw the disappointment on her face. Jesus. He'd just acted like a complete asshole in front of her.

He opened his mouth as though he were going to say something to her, finding himself overwhelmed with frustration at the sight of her. There was no way he had a shot with her. Not now. How could he be so goddamn stupid? She was way out of his league anyway, and now he'd maliciously ripped out her best friend's heart right in front of her. Not to mention he'd exposed the fact that he'd lied about the nature of their relationship in the first place. Yeah…he was screwed.

Despite the dismal situation, he managed to smirk and plop down on the bench beside her, resting his elbows on the table. He stared at the group of well-liked teenagers, knowing damn well none of them wanted him there. It almost fueled his fire to see their disapproving faces. Well, so long as he didn't look at Wendy, anyway.

"Dude, why don't you just go home?" Stan asked, trying to be somewhat cordial. Clearly Craig shouldn't have come to school.

Craig shrugged, his eyes widening a little as he realized Clyde was approaching. Everyone watched curiously as Clyde walked over, stopping in front of him with his hands shoved into the pockets of his letterman jacket.

"Clyde," Craig acknowledged, seeming totally un-phased. Of course, everyone knew better. They'd all witnessed their fight.

"What the hell was that?" Clyde asked, irritated. He couldn't help but feel further and further disappointment as he watched his old friend spiraling downwards to ever further depths of depravity. Sure, Craig had always been a bastard, but he had been really going off of the rails for quite some time now.

Craig shrugged, pushing the side of his cheek with his tongue as he looked away. He really didn't want to have a confrontation with Clyde; he still cared about him deeply, despite the time that had passed. Clyde, however, wasn't about to roll over and play dead.

"Your dick getting you into trouble again?" he urged, somewhat disdainfully.

Craig let out a laugh before looking up at his old friend.

"Yeah," he responded, none-too-impressed.

Clyde nodded before letting out a sigh.

"God, Craig…when the fuck are you going to wake up? Look at you…you're a goddamn wreck! Jesus…you're selling drugs, you're screwing anything with a pulse…you're starting to run out of allies here, buddy."

"I don't need anyone," Craig spat out, a little bothered that Clyde knew he was slinging weed. He'd actually tried to conceal that.

Wendy's heart sank a little at that statement. She'd known Craig was a screw up, but clearly losing his parents was the last straw. It looked like there was no humanity left.

"Yeah, we get it," Clyde pushed, "Craig Tucker's a badass motherfucker who doesn't give a shit about anyone. Get over yourself, asshole."

Craig's eyes quickly darted over, noting that Bebe was leaning on Eric vulnerably. She was quick to jump into anyone's arms, that was for sure. However, he found himself entirely unbothered as he let out a sigh and turned his attention back to Clyde.

"Yeah, well…what can you do?" he sighed, not really proud of anything he was saying. Of course he wanted nothing more than to tell Clyde he'd lost his parents; he would've done just about _anything_ to have the courage to say 'hey, I fucking need you right now'. Sadly, he just didn't have it in him.

Clyde rolled his eyes before looking towards the kid he'd used to care for so much, "Everyone's tired of trying. If you want to be miserable then, fine, go ahead. Piss your life away, but quit dragging the rest of us down with you."

Craig swallowed hard as Clyde started to walk away, a pained look crossing his face. A long, awkward silence passed as the others tried to figure a way out of the situation. He noticed. He shifted, his eyes landing on Wendy once more. He was a little surprised to see what looked like sympathy in her eyes. It made him feel like his heart was being tugged on. However, he wasn't about to let everyone in the world see that side of him. He cleared his throat before looking towards the rest of them.

"If you guys want any weed, I sell it cheap," he said matter-of-factly before standing up and making his way back to Token. He'd had enough interaction with Stan and his crew for one day.


	4. He's Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Randy realizes what's happened to Craig and what that means for his family.

"God! He's such an asshole!" Bebe fumed as she leaned against her locker.

They were in between classes and she was absolutely furious, despite the fact that they were getting ready to start their last class of the day. She was definitely good at holding a grudge and nursing it endlessly.

Wendy nodded in agreement as she searched her locker for her Creative Writing textbook. It was her favorite class of the day and, admittedly, a part of that had to do with the fact that Craig was in it. She was listening to Bebe and, of course, she sympathized with her. What Craig had done to her in front of them all had been wrong, but she could also understand he was going through an immense tragedy. He certainly wasn't in his right mind; anyone could see that.

" _Wendy?_ Helloooo…are you listening to me? Why aren't you talking shit with me?" Bebe suddenly demanded, a little irritated that Wendy didn't seem to be paying much attention to her. This was the way things were supposed to go between them. Bebe would sleep with some jerk, Wendy would adamantly agree that he was a jerk, shit talking would commence, and then a pleasant 'you're so awesome, screw him' conversation would wrap the whole thing up until the next guy came around. Frankly, Wendy was growing tired of it.

"Huh? Oh…I'm sorry," she said, locating her book and shutting her locker.

Bebe stared at her expectantly, causing Wendy to sigh, "I'm just tired. I didn't get too much sleep last night."

"Yeah, I tried to call you a few times last night. Why weren't you answering your phone? And what happened to your forehead?" Bebe questioned as the two of them made their way through the halls. They had different classes, but they were close so they always walked this stretch of the day together.

Wendy felt her stomach flutter a bit. She definitely didn't _ever_ want Bebe to know she'd been riding around town with her boyfriend behind her back, "I had my phone on silent, that's all. I ran into a cabinet…I'm so clumsy sometimes…" she mumbled.

"Oh," Bebe answered, sounding a little discouraged. Something definitely felt off with Wendy; she could tell.

"Hey," Bebe said suddenly, stepping in front of Wendy and stopping her in her tracks. Wendy's eyes were wide as she stared at her friend, unsure of what was happening.

"Are we alright? You've been acting kind of weird…"

Wendy continued to observe her friend, a blank expression on her face as she considered the question. Sure, she cared about Bebe. Hell, they'd been best friends damn near their entire lives. It was just that, well, she felt like she was growing up and Bebe wasn't. It was always the same with her. The same mistakes. The same problems over, and over, and over again. It was goddamn exhausting. Of course, she didn't have it in her to say that; the thought of their friendship weakening saddened her far too much.

"Yeah, of course," she lied, smiling reassuringly.

Bebe immediately smiled before clutching her books to her chest and starting to walk again. Jesus. She was so easily convinced. It added even further to Wendy's annoyance with her. Nonetheless, she kept her irritation to herself as she followed suit, eager to delve into some therapeutic writing. However, as she approached her class she heard Bebe scoffing again.

"Ugh, there he is…" she scowled. Wendy's aggravation normally would've grown at this point, but her heart was too busy skipping a beat as her eyes landed on Craig. He literally took her breath away, as much as she struggled to fight it.

As Wendy slowly walked towards her class, Bebe continued to talk shit, more to convince herself that he was an asshole. Sadly, this was mistakenly overlooked by her best frined because, what Wendy wrote off as Bebe's usual immaturity was, in fact, actual heartache. She had been truly in love with Craig, and scowling and scoffing at him was the only way she knew how to cope.

"Okay, well…I'll see you after class," Bebe said, suddenly snapping Wendy from her trance.

"Yeah, sure," she responded, sounding entirely disinterested. Bebe would've called her on it any other day, but today she was far too wrapped up in her own pain.

"'Kay…later bestie," she said, doing her best to seem happy in front of Craig. Much to her disappointment, he didn't so much as glance at her as she finally gave up and headed into her respective classroom.

Wendy nodded at her before once more focusing her attention on Craig. She was doing her best to be a wallflower and he genuinely seemed caught up in conversation with Tweek, so he didn't notice her. She found herself utterly fascinated as he leaned against the wall, as cool and carefree as she'd ever seen him. He was chatting, smiling, and laughing a bit here and there, which she found wildly attractive, despite the fact that it was odd behavior considering. Then, with mild amusement, she watched as he started to pull a cigarette out. He frequently did this, almost always earning himself a trip to the principal's office or detention for the class period. She couldn't understand on any level why he did such things, but she did appreciate seeing the staff getting all flustered. It was pretty funny.

As she watched him gently drop the cigarette into his palm in an attempt to pack it, she felt her stomach drop and cheeks flush as his crystal blue eyes met hers. It almost seemed like slow motion as he casually put his cigarette into his mouth and smirked towards her, knowing damn well she was admiring him. She swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than to avert her eyes. However, she found herself powerless as she watched him light his cigarette, taking a long drag and staring at her charmingly all the while. They observed each other, trying to figure out just what was going on between them. Suddenly, they were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Craig Tucker! Goddamnit! How many times do I have to ask you to stop smoking in the hallways, mmkay?" Mr. Mackey demanded, hastily making his way over to Craig, snatching the cigarette and tossing it to the ground, stomping on it. Wendy smirked sheepishly as Craig smiled at him, genuinely amused by the strong reaction.

"At least once more," Craig responded cheekily as he held up his finger.

Mr. Mackey shook his head, almost looking disappointed, which immediately seemed to affect Craig's demeanor. He no longer looked like he was drawing enjoyment from the situation.

"Look…I didn't come here to holler at you today, mmkay? I came here to tell you that, if you want, my office door is open. Your grandmother gave me a call and she requested that I let you know I'm here for counseling, mmkay?"

Wendy felt her stomach softly aching as she watched an abrupt and profound pain was over Craig. It felt damn near an eternity as he stared at Mr. Mackey, seemingly at a loss for words. Luckily, the long silence finally ended as Mr. Mackey cleared his throat, smiling sympathetically towards the young man before walking away, eager to relieve himself of the awkward moment.

Wendy watched quietly as Craig struggled to recover and maintain his carefully crafted persona in front of his friends. She could see through it, though, as he wiped his nose casually and gave his attention back to Tweek. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, his hands were trembling as he reached into his jacket pocket a pulled a small bag of weed out. He passed it to Tweek, who gratefully took it and handed him a wad of cash. Craig tucked it safely into his backpack before quickly turning and making his way into the classroom, doing his best to avoid looking at Wendy. She waited for a few seconds, not wanting to seem too eager, before sucking it up and making her way into the classroom. Craig was seated at the back, leaning far back into his seat and fiddling with a pencil as he stared out the window on the other side of the room. For the briefest moment, she considered just giving it a rest and walking away from the whole situation. However, as she gazed at him, she knew she couldn't do that; Craig was lost and, for whatever reason, she was the only person he would even consider listening to. She had to try and help.

She took in a deep breath before doing her best to stride confidently toward him, having herself a seat in the chair beside him. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help but look toward her. She smiled at him sweetly before the bell rang, interrupting their gaze.

"Alright," the teacher began, commanding the attention of the class, "I'm sending the attendance sheet around. Go ahead and sign it…"

Wendy would normally listen to the teacher but, as he droned on, she was distracted by Craig tearing a piece of paper from his notebook and eagerly scribbling something on it. She made sure to watch him out the corner of her eyes so he didn't notice her. However, she was pleasantly surprised as he smiled at her, tossing the note lazily onto her desk. She felt a little awkward, definitely not wanting to get caught note passing. This teacher liked to make a spectacle out of it by reading the notes out loud. Even so, she was far too curious about anything Craig had to say to worry about the consequences too much. She tried to be somewhat covert as she slid the paper in front of her and quietly pried it open.

" _Hey sexy. Want to get out of here?"_

Wendy's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. She thought briefly about rolling the paper up into a ball and chucking it at his head, though better judgment prevailed as she rolled her eyes and lowered her head, quickly jotting down a response. He watched her, not bothering to hide his intrigue as she eyed the teacher and quickly passed it back.

He was far more conspicuous than she had been, but he managed to avoid the teacher's wrath. More or less, instructors were uninterested in what Craig did; they all knew he was a trouble maker and, as he got older, the staff was starting to give up. There was simply no point in trying to provide structure for someone who obviously had no intention of compliance.

_"No! You're crazy. We can't just waltz out of class. Besides, I'm with Stan. How many times do I have to tell you that?"_

Wendy did her best to act uninterested, though she did feel a small pit forming in her stomach as she awaited his response. She hated to admit it, but she actually did want him to convince her to leave with him; she just didn't want to seem like it was that easy. He had to earn it.

After thirty seconds or so Craig obviously reached his hand out, causing Wendy to snatch the paper. Jesus…he was so goddamn obvious about it! She shot him a disapproving look before shaking her head and unfolding the note once more.

_"Of course I'm crazy. That's what you like about me, isn't it? And if you're so in love with Stan why are you always staring at me? You know you want me…admit it! You want to know what it feels like."_

Wendy felt her face getting hot. Jesus, where did he get off talking to her like that? She gritted her teeth as she leaned forward and scribbled furiously. Craig couldn't help but be amused at her reaction. She was cute when she was being stubborn. He waited patiently for her to finish, smirking at her as she handed him the note. She didn't look amused in the slightest.

" _Stop it, Craig! God…you can't talk to me like that! What do you want to leave for anyway? I thought you like this class."_

Craig read it over a few times, realizing suddenly he did have a genuine reason for wanting to leave. He wanted to talk to her, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get her alone unless they bailed on school early. He carefully considered what approach he should take to win her over for several moments before finally writing his response, this time handing the note to her more carefully. She took immediate noticed of his change in demeanor, melting her disgust and gaining her interest once more.

" _Okay. I'm sorry. I seriously just want to leave. You're the only person I trust and I have something I really need to get off my chest. Please, let's just go? We can stand up and leave…what's anyone going to do about it? Nothing. I promise you."_

Wendy stared at the note, considering her options carefully. On the one hand, it was incredibly tempting on a personal level and, of course, out of concern for Craig's well being. On the other, if Stan were to find out she ditched school and ran off with Craig there would be consequences. She thought about it skeptically for a few more moments before, much to even her own surprise, she lifted her eyes and met Craig's gaze. They remained this way for just a few seconds before she nodded in the affirmative at him. His eyes widened, a little surprised that he'd actually managed to persuade her, though he didn't want to give her enough time to reconsider. In a quick, obnoxious movement, Craig stood up and tossed his backpack over his shoulder. He looked towards Wendy, certain she was going to back out. Surprisingly, she stood up, too.

"Sit down!" their teacher demanded, sounding entirely appalled as they quickly grabbed their things.

Neither of them bothered to say a word as they both quickly strode out the door. Wendy's heart was beating rapidly in her chest. She never did such things! Especially nothing so disrespectful towards an adult with authority over her. She was incredibly excited as she followed Craig through the halls.

"C'mon," Craig said as he grasped her hand and quickened their pace. They started to run, smiling and panting as they dashed down the halls and out of the school, high on pure adrenaline.

"Aaaaaah!" Wendy yelled out happily as they made their way to the side of Craig's truck. She immediately let go of his hand as she knelt forward and struggled to catch her breath, smiling brilliantly towards him. Christ, she really did make his heart skip a beat.

"Oh my God! That was so fun!" she admitted as she continued to try and catch her breath.

Craig couldn't stop smiling at her.

"Well, come on then. Get in…we don't want to get caught now!" he insisted as he unlocked his door and hopped inside.

Wendy nodded, still smiling as she went around. Craig leaned over and pulled the door handle, unlocking it for her in the process. She was still giggling a bit as she slid into the seat, shut the door and buckled herself in. Craig started the engine and peeled out of the parking lot, neither of them looking back. They drove in silence for a few minutes while they caught their breath. After a while, Wendy mustered up the courage to speak up.

"So, what did you want to tell me?" she asked, realizing the conversation was probably going to be pretty heavy. At least they'd had a few lighthearted moments there.

Craig let out a sigh before suddenly slowing the truck down and pulling off to the side of the road. He shut it off, a thick silence settling between them as he held his hands on the steering wheel, staring aimlessly. Wendy watched him curiously, not wanting to push him into a conversation he wasn't ready for. Christ. She felt so fucking back for him. She couldn't even begin to imagine how lost and scared he must've felt.

"Look…this has to stay between us, okay?" he requested, breaking their tense silence.

"Of course, I won't tell anyone, Craig. I promise," she assured as she shifted herself to face him.

She watched patiently as he wrung the steering wheel with his hands nervously. He was biting his lower lip as he struggled to figure out the right way to approach the situation. Eventually, he let out a frustrated sigh and looked toward her. She almost felt like her heart might stop as he looked helplessly in her direction.

"My gramma told me something about my family that I never knew," he began, trying to ease his way into the conversation. He wasn't sure how she'd react, but he really needed someone to discuss it with outside of his grandmother. He just didn't want to scare her off.

She nodded, showing that she was doing her best to follow what he was saying. He averted his eyes uncomfortably and dropped his hands into his lap.

"The thing is…my dad wasn't my dad. I mean…he _was_ my dad. You know, he raised me and taught me how to be a man and everything, but he didn't _make_ me, if you know what I'm saying."

Wendy nodded to show her understanding as she instinctively reached out and touched Craig's hand. He cleared his throat and raised his eyes to stare out at the road, affectionately lacing his fingers with hers and squeezing her hand a little.

"Who's your dad then?" Wendy asked, realizing this wasn't easy for him to discuss.

He looked down at his lap, rubbing the thumb of his free hand against his pointer finger.

"Randy."

Wendy immediately felt a lump in her throat.

"Randy…as in, Stan's dad?"

"Yeah," he said, sounding frustrated as he propped his elbow against the door. He ran his hand through his hair as he looked at Wendy, fear painfully obvious on his face.

She felt her heart sink as she realized how much this further complicated the situation for them both. Now, not only was she overwhelming attracted to another man, but that man happened to be her boyfriend's half-brother. Shit.

Craig gently gave her hand a squeeze. She looked up at him, their eyes fixated on one another.

"I know what you're thinking," he said quietly.

Wendy found herself entirely speechless. What the hell was she supposed to say to that? However, before she could say anything stupid out of anger or fright, he continued.

"Look, I'm not going to pressure you into something you don't want. Just…can I hold you for a little while? Please? I promise I won't do anything to you. You just make me feel…better."

Wendy stared at him, her eyes flickering with fear and perhaps even some shame as she considered it. It took her a few seconds, but she eventually let go of his hand and quietly slid into the center seat, leaning her small frame against his. No words were exchanged between the two of them as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and rested his cheek atop her head. Their hearts were both beating fast with tension and confusion as they cuddled together, trying to find some sort of comfort in the increasingly messy situation. This went on for several minutes before, finally, Craig nuzzled his nose into her hair and kissed the top of her head lightly.

She didn't protest. He didn't push any further. They simply sat there in the warm comfort of each other until the time came to take her home.

…

Stan's head was spinning as he wandered into his house. He had waited for almost an hour for Wendy to meet him after school. He always drove her home and, for whatever reason, she was nowhere to be found after class. He had texted her several times and he was starting to get really worried by the time she finally did answer him. She'd said she'd decided to go home early because she didn't feel well. Fair enough; he just thought it was weird she didn't let him know earlier. That was what she'd always done in the past. He couldn't help but notice she'd been acting kind of weird for the last few weeks; something was going on. He just couldn't place what it was.

"Hey, how was school?" Randy's voice interrupted his son's thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, it was fine I guess," he replied, seeming a bit down.

Randy looked him over, knowing damn well something was bothering him. Stan always grew very dark and brooding when something was getting to him.

"Stan, what is it? You can tell me," Randy insisted as he had himself a seat beside him.

Normally Stan would just blow him off and go to his room, finding the heart to hearts to be a bit much. Today, however, he was experiencing a profound sense of gratitude for his family in light of the news about Craig's. He couldn't quite place it, but for some reason he had always sort of worried about Craig. It didn't make much sense, really. He'd always pretty much hated the guy. But still…there was just something about him that made Stan give a damn.

"Well…I found out today at school that one of my friends' parents and sister got into a car accident. They all died. It's just really bugging me, that's all."

As Stan explained himself, his mother walked into the room and caught the tail end of their conversation.

"Oh my God, Stanley. Who was it?" she asked.

Stan shrugged, unsure why it really mattered.

"This kid Craig. Craig Tucker. I don't really hang out with him all that much, but still."

Sharon and Randy both immediately felt their stomachs drop. Holy shit!

"Tucker…Craig _Tucker_ lost his family?" Randy repeated, very aware of what that meant. It had been _so_ many years since he'd had his affair with Laura. He knew that Craig was his son, but he'd done absolutely nothing about it. It was Laura's wishes that Craig be kept in the dark about it. She didn't want anything more to do with Randy once she and her husband had reconciled.

Sharon was aware of the affair. It had all come out somewhere along the line, but she was blissfully unaware of the fact that he'd fathered a son with her. Though, she'd definitely had her suspicions with the timing of the baby and all.

"Yeah, why? What's the big deal?" Stan asked, noting his parents' over-the-top reaction to it.

"Nothing! Nothing, Stan. Now go to your room…me and your mom have to talk," Randy spat out, much to Stan's annoyance and confusion.

He rolled his eyes, "fine, whatever."

He gathered up his backpack and made his way upstairs. Randy and Sharon waited to hear their son's door click shut before they desperately looked towards one another.

"Well…now's the time to come out with it, Randy," Sharon insisted. She'd confronted him about Craig before and he'd always adamantly denied it. Now, however, she knew he could only deny his son if he was a truly heartless son of a bitch, and she knew good and well he wasn't. Randy struggled to find the right words. After a few moments of stunned silence, Sharon grew impatient.

"Randy…is he or isn't he your son!?" she demanded, disdain in her voice.

Randy's mouth quivered as he managed to locate his voice, though he was very meek as he replied.

"Yes…yes, he is."


	5. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Randy decides to reach out. Craig and Wendy get up to shenanigans together.

"Come on, Randy. Just do it. That poor kid is probably sitting in that empty house just waiting for a push in the right direction. Call her," Sharon urged. Her dipshit husband had been sitting at the kitchen table with his cell phone in hand for several minutes now. They'd already looked up Charlotte Tucker's name in the phone book, seeing as she was elderly and still had a landline.

"I will, Sharon! God!" Randy snapped back, entirely frustrated.

The sun was setting now and Stan had been locked in his room for hours now. Shelley was at a night class over at the community college. They definitely had the privacy they needed for the conversation. Still, he felt very uneasy and Sharon could see it. She let out a defeated sigh, realizing she was going to have to be a little more supportive if this was going to happen, despite the fact that she resented him having a child with another woman more than she could begin to express.

"Look, Randy…this kid needs you. Whether or not either of us likes it, he _is_ your son. You have to do this."

Randy fiddled a bit with the phone in his hand before vulnerably meeting his wife's gaze.

"What if he hates me? I mean, I was never there for him, Sharon. What if he doesn't even _want_ to come and stay with us? He does have his grandma…"

"Yes, but he probably has no idea he's even welcome here. He might not even know about who you are for all we know. It might help him make a decision."

He looked at her for a little longer before continuing.

"You know, he's a huge trouble maker at school, too. This isn't going to be easy. He's going to need a lot of guidance. A lot more than I think Laura or Thomas ever gave him."

Sharon nodded, "yes, and we're going to do that for him Randy because he's your responsibility. You made him. You can't ignore that anymore."

Randy swallowed hard before averting his eyes back to the phone. He rubbed his thumb along it before letting out a sigh and punching in Charlotte's number. His stomach ached as he waited for her to answer.

" _Charlotte Tucker speaking,"_ her shaky, aged voice greeted.

Randy took a second to find his voice, but managed, "Hello. This is Randy Marsh."

Sharon watched, also feeling a nervous pit in her stomach as she struggled to hear their conversation.

" _Oh. Hello."_

Randy's eyes were wide as he nervously stared at his wife, not sure what else to say. However, he was relieved to hear Charlotte continue.

" _You're calling about my grandson, then?"_

Randy nodded as he spoke, "Yes. Yes, that's why I'm calling."

Another pause. Fuck. This was so awkward.

_"I've already told him about you. He wasn't very happy about it, but I told him he could decide where to stay. As far as I know, he's coming to stay with me tonight."_

"Um, yes. Well, that's what I called to talk to you about, actually. Uh, I was wondering what you would think about him coming to stay with us tonight?"

Randy felt a little sick as he waited for her response. She seemed to be trying to handle the situation as carefully as he was. Sharon's eyes were wide with curiosity as she tried to figure out what Charlotte had to say.

" _Well, I told him it was something he could decide for himself. If you want I can give you his cell phone number and you can ask him yourself. I won't be the middle man, if that's what you're asking. You do understand this boy needs a father, not a friend, right? He's got…problems. He needs structure, and if you can't provide that then I think it's best you stay away…"_

"I can do that. I can provide that. Me and Sharon have a good family, Mrs. Tucker. We would be so happy to have Craig here. I…I never got a chance to know him and I really want to help."

Sharon and Randy were both a little surprised at how eagerly he spoke. Shit. He meant it. He really did want to help this kid; this kid he barely knew. This kid, who was, despite all that came along with it, his son.

" _Well…okay then. Do you have a pen? I will give you his number."_

Sharon's eyes were fixated on her husband as he eagerly grabbed a pen and paper.

"Go ahead."

She watched, an envious pit in her stomach as her husband scribbled down a phone number. She assumed it was Craig's.

"Thank you so much Mrs. Tucker. I will ask him to call you and let you know what he decides. If he wants to stay here, I'll stay in contact with you, okay?"

_"You're welcome. I think he will give you a chance, Randy. He's a good boy at heart. He really is."_

Randy nodded to himself before smiling fondly and hanging up the phone. Sharon eyed him expectantly.

"Well…what's going on?"

"She said she told him he could decide and that I should call him."

Sharon glanced at the number before returning her gaze to Randy.

"Are you going to call him?"

Randy's thumb trailed the surface of the phone again, his nerves racing even worse than before. The idea of talking to a son he'd abandoned made him feel like he couldn't breathe.

"Yeah, yeah I am."

Sharon swallowed, leaning back into her seat and crossing her legs. She put her hand to her mouth and chewed on her nails, her nerves racing. As angry as she was with her husband, she knew it would destroy him if that kid denied him. He had always been very paternal; she couldn't imagine how much it must've killed him to deny Craig in the first place. Despite everything, Randy had always been a caring father with their children; even if he wasn't always doing the right thing.

Randy sucked in some air before punching in Craig's number and lifting his phone to his ear. It felt like an eternity before he answered, but he finally did.

" _Hello?"_ Craig's nasally voice answered. He hadn't heard his voice since he was eight or nine, seeing as he wasn't in Stan's social circle. It was jarring.

"Hi…uh…is this Craig?"

 _"Yeah. Who's asking?"_ he demanded, sounding both cautious and irritated. Randy couldn't help but feel like he was already on the road to alienating this kid. He had no clue how to interact with him; he clearly wasn't as friendly as Stan was.

"This is Randy Marsh."

He felt a violent rush of pain hit his stomach as a long silence ensued. Sharon reached out and grabbed his hand in an effort to comfort him. His hand was trembling, which tore at her heart.

" _Oh. Uh…hi."_

Randy let out a long, sizeable breath before answering, some relief detectable in his voice.

"Hi."

Another silence.

" _So, what do you want then?"_

"Well, uh, I wanted to talk to you. You know, uh, let you know that if you wanted, me and Sharon…that's my wife…would really love for you to come and stay with us tonight. If you want."

Shit. He was rambling and being awkward. This kid probably hated him. However, he was surprised as all hell as his newfound son answered somewhat casually.

" _Yeah. Sure. Whatever. I'll be there in like two hours. I'm out with a girl."_

"Oh, you have a girlfriend? Cool. Good. Uh, yeah…come over after your done with that then," Randy spat out awkwardly, causing Sharon to pinch the bridge of her nose and shut her eyes. A stressed look crossed his face as he saw his wife's negative reaction. Apparently that wasn't the right thing for a father to say. He wasn't sure what to do though. Normally when he asked Stan to do something he would just do it.

_"No. I don't have girlfriend. I'm just out with a girl. But fine. I'll be there after. I have to get some shit from my house, too."_

"Oh, well, if you want me and Sharon can meet you at the house and help you. We have a truck."

_"I'm not moving in with you. I'm staying tonight. I don't even know if I like you or not."_

Randy felt the slightest ache in his heart at that one.

"Oh, right. Of course. Yes, well, we'll see you in two hours then. So…nine o' clock…on the dot, right? Because I will be really worried if you're not here by then, you know?"

_"Yeah. Nine. Sure. Whatever. I gotta go, alright?"_

"Okay, okay. I will see you at nine then. Bye."

_"Yeah, later."_

Randy let out a small whimper as he set the phone down on the table. He looked entirely defeated, which caused Sharon to move herself into his lap. He instinctively wrapped his arms around her and rested his head against her chest. He always felt comforted when she held him like that.

"He's coming?"

"Yeah, he's coming. I think he hates me, though."

Sharon rubbed his back before placing a kiss on his head, "I'm sure he doesn't. He just doesn't know you. Give him some time."

Randy nodded before leaning his head back to meet his wife's eyes.

"We need to tell Stan and Shelley before he gets here."

Sharon nodded in agreement before standing herself up.

"I'll call Shelley and ask her to come home. You go get Stan."

Randy stood up before giving his wife a kiss on the cheek as she pulled her phone out.

"What was that for?" she asked, a little caught off guard. They didn't exchange kisses too often anymore. He looked her over lovingly.

"Because, I love you. Thanks for that."

Sharon's face grew soft as she pinched his arm lightly, "Oh, Randy. We've been together forever. This happened a long time ago. So, we have to pick up the pieces now. It's really okay. It'll be fine."

Randy smiled warmly at her before pinching her arm back lightly and leaving the room to get Stan. His stomach continued to ache as he walked up the stairs, realizing telling Stan might even be harder than having to bring Craig into the house in the first place. He was going to be so disappointed in him; that thought nearly killed him. He and Stan had developed a very close relationship very early on in his childhood. It was a bond that had lasted a lifetime and, as he realized he was going to have to break this news, he sort of felt like he could lose that; it frightened him beyond words. He held his breath as he knocked on Stan's door, stepping back as he waited for him to answer.

"What's up, Dad?" Stan asked, smiling as he answered.

"Hey, your mother and I want you to come downstairs. We have something to talk with you and your sister about."

Stan's smile immediately left his handsome face, replaced with concern. It had to be something serious if they were calling his sister home.

"Dad…is everyone okay? Just tell me now."

"Don't worry, Stan. Everyone's alive and well…it's nothing like that. We just have something important to talk to you about. It's not necessarily a bad thing, I promise you."

Stan breathed out a sigh of relief before smirking at his dad.

"Alright…" he said as he stepped out of his room.

Randy smiled at him before putting his arm around his shoulder and leading him down the stairs. Once they reached the bottom they were greeted by Sharon, angry as all hell.

"Did Shelley freak out about coming home?" Stan asked, relishing the fact that his sister was being a pain. She would fly into these ridiculous rages and he found it entirely amusing because it just further cemented his status as the favorite child.

"Ugh…she'd ridiculous. Just because she's an 'adult' now she thinks she can do whatever she wants! Well, I've got news for her! If we didn't give her a car and pay for her school she would be absolutely nowhere! Ungrateful little…"

She muttered the rest of it under her breath, knowing it was frowned upon to call her own daughter a bitch. Stan and Randy both smirked, knowing damn well what she was saying. Stan shook his head with amusement before plopping down on the couch and flicking the TV on, pleased to see some really old re-runs of Terrance and Phillip on. Randy glanced toward the kitchen, making sure Sharon wasn't paying attention before also taking a seat. He secretly enjoyed this show, too, though he wasn't about to let Sharon know that.

He and Stan watched, laughing at the same old fart jokes as they went on. Watching Terrance and Phillip together had been a father-son activity they'd indulged in since he was very young, mostly because they knew Sharon didn't approve. It sort of put them into their own little space that only they understood, which meant a great deal to both of them. However, after a little bit of time Stan found himself wanting to talk.

"I haven't heard from Wendy, like, at all today," he said, a small amount of stress in his voice.

Randy looked toward him, realizing he was worried.

"When did you last hear from her?"

"Well, I _did_ hear from her. She told me she was sick. But it was weird. She just dipped from school early and didn't let me know. She _never_ does stuff like that. I dunno…it was just weird. It's bugging me."

Randy nodded. That really didn't sound like Wendy from what he knew about her. They always talked all day long; Randy would actually get jealous of how much of Stan's attention she took at times.

"Well, I don't know. Maybe she's sleeping? If she's really sick she probably just wants to rest," he offered.

Stan nodded, "yeah. You're probably right. I'm probably just being a crazy, jealous boyfriend."

Randy nodded, feeling his nerves start to race again. Jesus, Stan was going to hate him for this. As if on cue, Shelley stormed into the house, a seriously pissed off look on her face.

"Alright, I'm here!" she shouted angrily as she strode over to the couch and plopped down, forcing Randy to stand up. Christ, she'd turned out to be a raging monster.

"Goddamnit, Shelley," Sharon shouted, about to go off on a rant. However, she managed to stop herself when she saw Randy's pleading face. He just wanted to get it over with.

Sharon let out a shaky, frustrated sigh as she struggled to get her anger under control. She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and walking to her husband's side, attempting to present a united front.

"Okay, obviously your father and I have something very important to tell you," she began, eyeing Shelley as she spoke. Stan smirked arrogantly at his sister before turning his attention back to his parents.

"What is it then?" Shelley asked, a small sweetness creeping into her voice as she looked at her father. She would do that pretty often; have enormous outbursts and then be cute as a button. Stan's demeanor immediately changed, giving Shelley an enormous amount of pleasure.

"Knock it off, guys," Randy suddenly instructed, catching both of them off guard. He had their attention.

"Wow, what is it?" Shelley asked, realizing the situation was serious.

Randy's breathing slowed as he struggled to get his heart under control. He was so goddamn nervous; he was about to lose the respect of both of his children and there wasn't a thing in the world he could do about it.

"Listen, when me and your mom were young, back before you were born Stan, we had a little rough patch…"

"…Yes, we were having a hard time with our marriage and with Shelley being so young we were just…overwhelmed," Sharon interrupted, wanting to help him out.

Randy smiled at her warmly before putting his arm around her. She also put her arm around his waist, wanting to demonstrate to their children that what he did wasn't a problem now.

"So, during this time, I sort of…made a mistake."

Stan and Shelley stared, confusion in their eyes. Stan started to comprehend a little faster. He had a good idea where this was headed.

"Okay…so, you had an affair then? Is that what you're trying to tell us?" he spat out, not looking amused.

Randy squeezed Sharon closer, fear on his face. Fuck. Stan was already pissed.

"Uh, yes. Yes, Stan, I did."

"Are you guys getting a divorce or something?" Shelley asked, a little shocked.

"No, no, nothing like that," Sharon spoke up, still trying to move the conversation along peacefully.

"Well, okay then, why are you telling us this?" Stan asked.

Randy bit his lower lip before continuing, realizing the time for bluntness had arrived.

"Because, Stan…Shelley…during this time, when I had my affair, I accidentally got this woman pregnant. You guys have a brother and he's coming to stay with us for a little while…"

Sharon patted her husband's chest reassuringly as she eyed her children. It broke both of their hearts to see them struggling to process this new information.

"What!? Where's he going to stay? I'm not sharing my room, if that's what you think!" Shelley spat out, seeming to miss the overall point of the conversation.

Stan, however, was more direct.

"Do I know this kid? I mean, he must go to school with us, right?"

"Yes. Yes, Stan, you do."

Stan's eyes were wide with exasperation. Jesus, it was like pulling teeth!

"Well, who is it then?" he demanded, growing more frustrated.

Sharon leaned forward, realizing she had to answer.

"Craig Tucker. Craig Tucker is your brother."

Stan's blue eyes widened, "What!?"

"Who the hell is that?" Shelley asked, irritated as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"He's a fucking douche bag I go to school with, that's who!" Stan retorted, thoroughly pissed off by this point, "Seriously, Dad! Of all the kids you could've fathered it had to be that asshole?"

"Stanley Marsh!" Sharon hollered in an attempt to get her son under control. She could tell Randy was about to lose it if Stan went on.

"No! This is bullshit! No way I'm sharing a room with Craig, that's for sure!" he shouted as he stood up abruptly.

Shelley stood up too, enjoying the fact that she and her brother were united in their anger.

"Yeah! Screw that noise! Why should we have to share a house with some bastard kid of yours?" she demanded.

"Watch your mouths, both of you!" Sharon shouted, letting go of Randy and stepping toward the kids. She wasn't about to let them talk like that.

Shelley rolled her eyes before crossing her arms over her chest and looking at her parents, entirely unimpressed. Stan, on the other hand, had his fists balled up at his sides as she shook with aggravation. He was angry enough that his father could do something like this to all of them but, really, it _had_ to be Craig fucking Tucker?

"Now," Sharon went on, having her kids quieted, "neither of you have to share a room. We're going to clear out your father's man cave and put a bed in there if Craig decides to stay with us. Stan, you only have to share a room with him for tonight, okay?"

Stan rolled his eyes before plopping back down on the couch, scoffing at his parents angrily. Shelley took a small amount of amusement in his displeasure, so she smiled sweetly.

"Okay, that's fine. I'm going to freshen up before our new brother gets here. Hopefully he's cooler than this turd," she said as she glanced at Stan.

Stan made a face at her, but made no attempt at retorting. He was too pissed off. Shelley never really gave a damn about anything, so long as it didn't inconvenience her too much. Stan, on the other hand, cared a lot about the state of his family. He found himself very worried.

"Mom, Dad…Craig's an asshole. I know you don't want to hear that, but it's true. He will rip this family apart if you let him stay with us. Please, please don't let him stay," he begged, staring at Randy.

"Stan…come on. This is very unlike you, sweetie," Sharon stated, genuinely surprised by her son's behavior.

She was right, though. Stan had always been a very easy going, accepting person. It was very out of character for him to fight so hard against helping someone who obviously needed it. However, this was Craig they were talking about. He'd hated him since they were kids, despite the unreasonable protective nature he'd had toward him. It made sense now, though. He hated him, but he wanted to keep him safe instinctually; probably because he was his fucking brother.

Stan let out a sigh. Sharon had gotten under his skin.

"Fine. Can I at least invite Kyle over? It'll make it easier for me."

"Yes, that's fine," Randy quickly answered, desperate for anything that could make things easier on his son.

Stan nodded as he stood up.

"Can I go back to my room?"

A profound look of sadness crossed Randy's face, "yeah, go ahead."

Stan started to walk away, however, he paused at the stairs before turning to look at his saddened father.

"I still love you."

Randy smiled at him sheepishly, "I love you, too, Stan."

Stan eyed him for a moment longer before nodding his head and disappearing up the stairs. Sharon rubbed Randy's shoulder as he pulled her in for a cuddle.

…

"That was Randy?" Wendy asked. He had driven her home only to find her parents were out at a party for the evening, so she'd invited him in for a soda.

"Yeah, he wants me to come and stay with them tonight."

Wendy nodded as she brought his drink over, sitting beside him on the couch. She couldn't help but admire him. He had such pleasing features with those crystal blue eyes and black hair. He was beautiful, really.

"And you're going to?"

He nodded as he held his drink in his hands, staring down at it. Wendy felt a pang of sympathy for him. What an awkward situation.

"Well…look at it this way. It's something new. It might not necessarily be a bad thing."

Craig smirked before tilting his head back and downing some of his soda.

"Yeah, maybe," he shrugged. He was fixated on his lap, not having the courage to look her in the eye while he was feeling so vulnerable. He wanted nothing more than to just drop off of the grid; he didn't want to stay with the Marsh's or his grandmother. He just wanted to disappear and start a new life absent of anyone he used to know. Well…everyone except for Wendy, of course. He swallowed hard as he finally looked up, meeting her beautiful eyes. She watched curiously as he opened his mouth to say something and, apparently, thought better of himself. He smirked and let out a small laugh before averting his eyes once more.

"What is it?" she asked, knowing damn well he had something important to say.

He furrowed his brow. He wanted to tell her how she was the only person in the world that was keeping him there. He wanted to tell her how he would give anything in the world just to fucking hold her and call her his; to tell her how he'd settle for so much less than sex. He wanted to tell her how he wanted, more than anything in the entire fucking universe, to make her his own. Of course, he couldn't.

"Do you, uh, want to get high with me?"

Wendy let out a surprised laugh.

"What? Seriously? That's what you were going to say to me?"

He smiled at her playfully, relieved to have lightened the mood. He really didn't want to deal with all of this serious bullshit.

"Yeah…please? It would help a lot if I could get high before I go over there…"

Wendy stared at him, a dumbfounded look on her face. However, despite the fact that she'd never smoked and never planned to, she really wanted to connect with Craig. Was she willing to sacrifice her morals for this guy? Then again, was she really as much of a prude as she made herself out to be all of these years, or did she behave the way she did because it was the kind of girl Stan wanted her to be? Who in the hell was she, anyway?

She smiled at him, intrigued by this crazy, dangerous boy in her house.

"Yeah, okay…fine."

Craig's face lit up, a broad smile instantly painting his face, "really? Damn. You're full of surprises Wendy Testaburger. You really are," he said as he pulled his pipe from his pocket and set his drink on the coffee table. She watched curiously as he leaned over and grabbed a small container of weed from his backpack and started packing the pipe. Once finished, he grabbed a lighter from his other pocket and faced Wendy.

"Okay, so, I'm going to light it and hold my thumb over this hole. Then, once I've got enough, I'm going to take away the fire, let go of the hole, and inhale it. Alright? It's easy."

"Okay," she said, reaching out. He held up his hand and stopped her, smiling playfully.

"Or…" he started as she dropped her hands and stared at him, "you can shot gun me. I'll inhale and blow it into your mouth."

"What? Oh, no…I'm not doing that. I don't think Stan would appreciate that…"

Craig laughed.

"What?" she demanded, blushing a little.

"Nothing. It's just that, Stan wouldn't appreciate _any_ of this. It's not a kiss. Just let me do it. I think it will be easier for you."

She raised one of her eyebrows, "I know it's not a kiss, but how do I know you won't kiss me anyway?"

Craig held his pinky up. She rolled her eyes and locked pinkies with him, but before releasing her he laid out one more condition.

"Unless, of course, you kiss me. In which case, I will be forced to be nothing short of a gentlemen."

Wendy rolled her eyes before letting out a laugh. God, he was so charming. He smirked at her before holding up the pipe and putting it to his lips. She watched intently as he burned it and then inhaled a sizeable amount of smoke. As he held it in he put his hand beneath her chin and leaned forward. She could feel her heart start to race as he placed his lips atop hers, both of their mouths opened enough for her to suck in the smoke. Once she'd inhaled it he backed off, keeping his promise. She held it in for a moment, looking at him with wide eyes. He laughed some more.

"Go ahead…let it out."

She slowly let it out of her mouth, surprised that she hadn't coughed. Maybe the shotgun was a good idea.

"I don't feel anything," she admitted, rubbing her arm.

Craig smiled at her warmly, gesturing for her to come closer. She leaned toward him as he took another hit. However, much to her surprise, he lifted her up and placed her on his lap. She straddled him and made no attempt to move as he put his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her close, pressing their lips together once more. She inhaled the smoke, her stomach aching with desire as he slid his hand from her neck, trailing down her spine and resting on the small of her back. She did her best not to make a sound as she released the smoke from her lungs slowly.

"It'll take a little bit," he said, though he was already starting to feel pretty lifted. He loved the feeling weed gave him; it made him forget the bullshit, if only for a little while. He was pleased to see the inhibitions washing away from Wendy's face, though he would keep his promise. He had no plans of taking advantage of her.

"I think I'm starting to feel it…" she said, noting that the room almost seemed darker…or maybe lighter? Something was different.

He smiled at her warmly, setting down the pipe and placing his hands on her hips. She was wearing a frilly little skirt; he kind of wanted to play with it in all of its glorious poofiness, but he knew that was just the weed and stopped himself from being overly silly.

"Behave yourself," she insisted, though she seemed a little loopy.

"I am, beautiful. Don't worry. You're safe with me," he assured her, though he couldn't help but rub the outside of her thighs. The warmth of her skin was definitely tempting beneath his hands. He could tell he was exciting her, despite the fact he knew it wouldn't come to anything; at least not under these conditions. She looked him over, placing her hands on his shoulders as she spoke.

"Do you feel a little better now?"

He nodded, "yeah."

She smiled affectionately.

"You think you can do this?"

He let out a sigh, still trailing his fingers along her thighs, though far less seductively. Things were taking a turn back towards innocent friendliness, which he accepted graciously.

"Yeah, I think I can."

She sat on his lap for a few more seconds before attempting to get off. He gently nudged her hips back down, causing her to look at him quizzically.

"One more hit before I go?"

She smirked at him, clearly a little more daring now that she was high.

"Alright."

He joyfully lit up another hit, grabbing her up near her ribcage and pulling her in, pressing his lips a little more firm against hers. He could feel his heart beating with excitement, making it so difficult to control himself. She sucked in the intoxicating smoke once more, pressing her hands to the sides of his head as she did so. As much as they both wanted, the still didn't kiss. They each pulled their faces apart reluctantly. She leaned her head back, exposing her throat as she exhaled, pushing her chest a little closer to his face.

He let out a small, frustrated whimper as he abruptly slid his hands up under her shirt, though making sure to keep his hands on her ribcage. He pulled her close again, their noses touching as they stared at one another, their breath erratic. The both could feel their heartbeats in their temples as they hovered on the brink of disaster together, Wendy's breath heavy with desire. However, before either of them dared to make a move, she broke their stare, bringing both of them to their senses.

"Uh…" she stammered as she pushed his hands away from her and hopped off of his lap. She stood up and adjusted her skirt, looking at him with wide eyes. He was about to apologize, but she spoke first.

"Get to Stan's safely. Give him my love."

He nodded, a heavy disappointment settling in his stomach as he peeled himself from the couch, shoving his paraphernalia into his backpack. She watched as he gathered his things, a heavy guilt settling in her chest. He started to walk towards the front door when she spoke up, causing him to turn and look at her.

"By the way…I was sick, if he asks."

He nodded as she went on.

"And…the next time we do something like this…I'll be sick, too."

He smiled at her warmly, realizing she meant the door was open.

"Now…go on," she said playfully, turning to walk away from him.

He shook his head as he continued to smile, exiting her home with the slightest glimmer of hope.


	6. Tricia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig remembers his sister, Tricia.

Randy was practically coming out of his skin. It was already ten o' clock and Craig still hadn't arrived. He had tried calling several times with no luck. Where was he? Was he alright? He literally felt like he could vomit, even though he hadn't even legitimately met the kid. Hell, he didn't even really know what he looked like. Still, he was his son and he had said he'd arrive an hour ago.

"Randy, maybe we should just go to bed. He probably just went to Charlotte's house," Sharon sighed, very aware of the fact that she had to get up for work in the morning.

"No…I can't. I'm too stressed," he sighed, running his hand through his hair. Stan and Kyle had already gone up to Stan's room. Shelley had also disappeared into hers. None of them wanted to wait around for some kid who clearly wasn't going to show.

Sharon reached out and gripped Randy's hand, sympathetic to how he must've been feeling.

"Well, maybe you should try and call him one more time?" she offered, doing her best to be supportive. She wasn't overly happy about waiting up for her husband's parentless love-child to arrive, but she didn't have much choice. Her husband needed her and she had to be there for him.

Randy let out a troubled sigh before pulling his phone from his pocket. Sharon couldn't help but see the fear and nervousness on his face as he scrolled through his contacts. However, before he could dial Craig's number there was a knock at the door, causing each of them to suck in air nervously. This was it. He was here. They hesitated for a second, Sharon reaching out and squeezing Randy's hand once more to reassure him. He quickly turned his attention to her and offered her an awkward, nervous smile.

"Come on, it'll be okay," she urged, standing up.

Randy held onto her hand, almost feeling as though he were shaking. He allowed her to lead him through the living room. Once they reached the front door, Sharon stepped aside, allowing Randy to answer it. He sucked in another deep breath, hoping it would help him to keep his bearings. Unfortunately, it didn't too much for his nerves as he cautiously opened the door.

Sharon watched curiously as Randy's face immediately showed shock and awe. Unable to contain herself, she peaked around the door to see. She couldn't help but gasp quietly as she looked the strange kid over. Jesus H. Christ. He looked _so_ much like Randy, it was startling. How had no one noticed this before? Especially Stan?

"Uh, hey…" Craig offered as he struggled to offer a smile. It was weak, but he managed.

Randy opened his mouth a little, wanting with all of his heart to respond. However, he found himself utterly paralyzed. Sharon quickly noticed and jumped to her husband's side.

"Hello, Craig. I'm Sharon and this is Randy. Come on in," she insisted, pushing Randy aside gently so Craig could enter.

Craig nodded before letting out a sizeable yawn. Once inside he dropped his backpack to the ground beside the stairs, stretching his arms above his head. Randy and Sharon both noticed he was significantly taller than most kids his age, accompanied by a thin and lanky frame. Oddly enough, he looked very much like Randy had when he was in high school, which sort of made Sharon uncomfortable. Why did this child he had with someone else look so much like him? Stan had some of his features, certainly, but this kid was the spitting image. She felt a little pit of jealousy forming in her stomach.

"So, where am I sleeping then?" Craig asked, turning to face the Marsh's.

They both stared at him awkwardly for a second, a little taken aback by his casual demeanor. Didn't he care that he was meeting his biological father for the first time? Did he give a shit that he basically had an entire family he knew nothing about? As the two of them struggled to make sense of it, Craig was quietly battling his own demons. He hadn't been able to go into his family's home to grab clothes, pillows, blankets…anything. He'd driven over there and basically gotten blitzed out of his mind in the driveway. He just couldn't do it; facing that house alone was _not_ an option, despite how much he wanted it to be. Not to mention that, after dealing with that nonsense, he had to come and stay with Stan's asshole family.

Sure, there was definitely a part of him that was curious about Randy, but there was also this really significant part of him that wanted to avoid this whole charade. He knew the entire experience was going to be forced and fake, so why even bother? There was no way in hell that family could love him like he was their own because, quite frankly, he wasn't. Stan and his bitch sister were theirs, not him. Whatever. It didn't really matter. He was high as a fucking kite so he knew he could at least get through the night.

"Uh, well, we figured that for tonight you could share Stan's room. Kyle is over, too, so the space is a little limited. We set up a blow up mattress in there for you, though. You should be comfortable," Randy stammered, wanting to provide this strange, distant child some kind of comfort and stability.

Craig nodded, his crystal blue eyes scanning the living room as he went on, "and if I decide to stay longer?"

Randy swallowed hard, a little surprised that he even considered that an option. He'd sounded almost adamant against it on the phone earlier. Sharon quickly answered, knowing Randy was trying to process the situation and figure this elusive kid out.

"If you stay, we will buy you a bed and clear out Randy's man-cave for you. You can decorate it however you want…it'll be yours."

Craig let out another yawn, seeming like he was bored and uninterested in the whole situation.

"Alright. Cool. Can I smoke out back?" he asked, pulling his pack of cigarettes out and placing one in his mouth. Sharon and Randy were both a little shocked as they stared at this ballsy young man before them. Jesus; Stan would never do something like that. They weren't sure what to do. However, much to Sharon's surprise, Randy spoke up.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but I'm not comfortable condoning that. You can't smoke at our house."

They both eyed Craig, uncertain how he would react. He was a little amused, but he kept it to himself. He'd just been testing his boundaries. His parents wouldn't have been cool if they knew he smoked either. He shrugged and placed the cigarette back into the box, tossing it towards them. Randy caught it before they continued to stare at him.

"Yeah, alright. Stan's room is upstairs?"

They watched quietly as he grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, looking at them expectantly. Sharon was the first to respond.

"Yes, he's upstairs. Go ahead and get some rest. We'll see you tomorrow after school?"

He shrugged, "I dunno. Maybe."

Randy and Sharon both nodded, trying to tread carefully. They would've never allowed Stan to be so…well, arrogant. Craig was really unfamiliar to them both, though, and they wanted to take a little time to get to know him before trying to correct undesirable behaviors.

"Okay, goodnight then," Randy offered, not sure what else he could say.

"Night," he replied before heading up the stairs, not bothering to look back. As he climbed the unfamiliar stairs he couldn't help but feel a little nauseated. Surprisingly, meeting Randy and Sharon wasn't the part of his night he'd dreaded the most. Sure, meeting his father for the first time since becoming aware of their relationship was awkward, but trying to hang out with Stan was something else entirely. At least Sharon and Randy hadn't already made up their minds about what kind of person he was, although he figured once they got to know him they'd feel about the same as everyone else. Stan, on the other hand, loathed is very existence and he knew it. Still, he didn't have much choice if he wanted to at least try and have a relationship with Randy. He arrived at the room he assumed was Stan's, disappointed to hear him and Kyle still awake. He sucked in a nervous breath before turning the knob.

"What are you assholes doing?" he asked as he entered, doing his best to be casual.

"Shut the door, douche," Stan demanded, though he didn't sound overly pissed.

Craig rolled his eyes as he complied. Once the door was shut he dropped his backpack and plopped onto the air mattress in the middle of the floor, his hands laced behind his head and his ankles crossed.

"So, you two losers are sharing a bed, right? Because I'm not planning on sharing."

Stan grit his teeth. Who the hell did he think he was walking into his room and barking out orders? However, before he could say anything, Kyle placed his hand on his shoulder. He quickly tore his eyes off of Craig, struggling to contain his resentment. He had to try and make nice with this asshole for his dad's sake, even if it was fucked up. Craig watched, somewhat amused that he'd obviously already gotten under Stan's skin. He was very aware he could exploit the situation and get away with a minor amount of torment. Perhaps this could at least be somewhat entertaining for a while.

"Yeah, we're sharing a bed," Kyle responded, doing his best to ignore any insults.

Craig smirked at them, watching with quiet curiosity as Kyle nudged Stan off the bed and started making it. He felt the smallest amount of regret for having come in guns blazing like that. Maybe he should've eased himself into the situation and at least made an attempt to be nice? After all, Stan was his brother, right? Shouldn't they have some kind of unspoken loyalty to each other now? Like, the way he and his sister had?

He cringed at the thought, his eyes still locked on Kyle as he suddenly started to drift off.

…

_"No, no…like this Tricia," he said happily as he took the paint brush from his little sister's petite hands._

_She was just a few years younger than him, but he still felt very protective of her. She was the only one in his entire family he harbored a real soft spot for. Sure, he loved his mother and father, but he always did his best to put up a cold front with them. However, his sweet little sister had always been above all of that. He simply adored everything about her and, at that moment, she'd needed his help with a painting she was trying to do well on._

_"I know! That's what I was trying to do!" she protested. However, her hot headed outburst was quickly replaced by a silent fascination as she watched her brother filling in the hair on a self-portrait she was working on. He couldn't help but notice her change in demeanor, causing him to stop painting, smiling wide at her._

_"What? What is it? Stop looking at me like that!" she demanded, though she wasn't angry anymore._

_"Nothing. Look, here, try it," he said as he returned the paintbrush._

_She rolled her eyes before letting out a doubtful sigh, looking towards him mockingly._

_"Yeah, okay, fine. I suck at this though."_

_Craig shook his head as he watched her hesitantly place the brush onto the paper, doing her best to mimic what he'd showed her. It took a few seconds for her to realize it, but much to her own surprise, she'd gotten it._

_"Oh, shit…that looks pretty good," she mused, stopping to give her brother a delighted smile._

_Craig returned the sentiment before reaching out and tossling her hair affectionately. She whined in protest, hating when he messed up her carefully styled hair. However, once he stopped she quieted._

_"Love ya, sis," he said fondly before standing up and heading toward his room._

_She rolled her eyes to herself before flipping him the bird behind his back, "yeah, love you too, dick face."_

_Craig flipped her off as well, though he didn't bother to turn around; he didn't want her to see the huge fucking grin he had painted on his face._

…

"Craig…hellooo? Are you in there, asshole?" Stan demanded, causing him to snap out of his thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry," he apologized, realizing he wasn't at home. He wasn't with his sister. He wasn't with his family. He wasn't with them and he never would be again. He shut his eyes, holding back tears.

Stan and Kyle looked at each other, both of them feeling a little guilty for being so irritated with him. It was almost like they'd forgotten why he was there in the first place. Stan eyed Kyle for a minute, guilt washing over his face as he let out a sigh.

"Hey, Craig, if you need to talk about anything or whatever, we're around," Stan offered awkwardly.

Craig, in a moment of weakness, looked toward him. He seemed a little dazed as he spoke, catching Kyle and Stan entirely off guard.

"Yeah, okay, thanks."

A long, uncomfortable silence passed between the three of them before Kyle grabbed a folded blanket off of Stan's bed and handed it to him. Stan took it, not really wanting to give it to Craig. However, Kyle shot him an insistent look. Stan shut his eyes in quiet frustration, trying to find the courage to do this small, nice thing.

"Hey, Craig…here's a blanket," he offered, trying to pull him out of his head.

Craig held up his hand, not bothering to look at Stan. Stan wasn't entirely thrilled about it, but he decided to just hand it over. After all, he might not even come back after this night and, at least if he did, they wouldn't have to share a room. He was a little surprised that Craig just quietly wrapped the blanket around him, rolling over and closing his eyes. Little did Stan or Kyle know that, as he turned away from them, he couldn't stop the tears from escaping as his thoughts lingered on his sweet, perfect little sister. Fuck. He missed his family more than he could possibly describe and, much to his disappointment, the drugs weren't keeping their memories at bay.

Stan eyed his half-brother for a second, unsure of why he felt the sudden urge to comfort him. However, he ignored his instinct and simply crawled into bed with Kyle, lying on his back with his hands behind his head. Kyle was lying on his side, speaking in whispers.

"Do you think he's okay?"

Stan shrugged, not entirely sure of what to do. Plus, he was a little worried Craig would overhear them. Kyle immediately picked up on it.

"Hang in there, dude. It's gonna be okay," Kyle assured before rolling over, his back turned to Stan.

Stan fixed his eyes upon the ceiling. No. No, it wasn't going to be okay. Nothing was going to be okay. Life as he knew it was about to change, he could feel it, and he had no idea what it was going to mean for anyone.


	7. Deprived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyle notices something going on between Wendy and Craig. Craig sees a counselor.

"Hey…hey, come on. Wake up, asshole!" Stan demanded as he nudged Craig. He'd slept through the alarm so he was trying to get him up in enough time for school.

"Jesus Christ. He sleeps like a rock…" Stan complained as he looked towards Kyle, almost a little worried.

"Dude, is he alive?" Kyle asked, half joking as he walked over to investigate.

Stan shrugged, "sure. He probably just got super high before he came over last night. I mean, he seemed really out of it, don't you think?"

Kyle also shrugged, "I dunno. I don't really hang out with him. What's he normally like?"

Stan scratched the back of his head, "well…I guess he's normally a big, loud-mouthed, obnoxious douche! Last night he was kind of…I dunno…subdued?"

Kyle nodded in agreement, "you're right. He was probably just high. Hey! Craig! Wake up!"

Stan couldn't help but laugh as Kyle knelt down and started shaking him violently, causing his eyes to shoot open.

"What the fuck!? Jesus fucking Christ!" he hollered out as he shoved Kyle away from him.

Kyle and Stan were both laughing hysterically as Craig struggled to focus his eyes and figure out where the hell he was and what was going on. After several seconds of overwhelming laughter, he managed to zero in on Stan and Kyle, remembering he'd spent the night at the Marsh's. Fuck. He'd forgotten for the briefest moment that he wasn't going to wake up to his family. For whatever reason, Stan suddenly noticed Craig's disappointment, causing his laughter to slow. Kyle caught on as well, so they silenced as Stan scratched his arm uncomfortably.

"Sorry, dude. You were sleeping pretty heavy. We have to get ready for school."

"Why so early?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up.

"Because," Stan explained as he slid his jacket on, "I'm picking up Wendy."

Wendy? Awesome. He hadn't counted on getting to see her beautiful face first thing in the morning. However, he knew he needed to play it off like he thought it was ridiculous. He rolled his eyes before yawning.

"Whatever. You guys are gross," he said casually as he got out of bed, still fully dressed from the night before. Stan noticed he didn't have any of his things with him. Why hadn't he gone home to get his stuff before coming over?

"Uh, do you have anything to wear?" he asked, noting that the only thing he really had was his backpack. Craig scratched the back of his head before grabbing his blue hat and tossing it on his head.

"No, it's cool. I can skip a shower…"

Kyle wrinkled his nose in disgust, though it didn't offend Stan as much. He would occasionally skip a day here and there, though not very often because of Wendy. She would only have sex when he'd showered.

"You don't even want to change your clothes?" Kyle asked, genuinely offended. Both Stan and Craig were a little amused.

"No. Nobody knows because I always have my jacket on anyway. Why? What's the big deal?"

Kyle scoffed at him, "it's fucking gross, dude, that's what."

Stan smirked as Kyle grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. Craig noticed Stan's amusement and stared at him, a little bewildered. Why did he think that was funny? Shouldn't he be, like, siding with Kyle? They were best friends. What did Craig matter to him? Stan noticed Craig's perplexed expression, causing him to clear his throat.

"Uh, so, if you're not going to shower let's go then. Wendy is probably ready for us by now anyway."

Craig shrugged before bending over and pulling a can of Axe out of his backpack and dousing himself in it, causing Stan and Kyle to wrinkle their noses. There was nothing worse than an un-showered dude covering himself in body spray and deodorant, but neither of them said anything about it. If that was what Craig wanted to do then what business was it of theirs? Even if they had to share a car with him. Well, actually, perhaps they didn't.

"Are you going with us, or did you want to drive yourself?" Stan asked as the three of them started to head out into the hall.

"Hey, do you have a toothbrush?" Craig asked as he realized he didn't have one.

"Huh…oh, yeah. Come on," Stan answered as he led Craig into the hallway bathroom and dug out a toothbrush for him.

As Craig brushed his teeth Stan asked him again, "so, do you want a ride, then?"

Craig finished up and spit out his toothpaste, looking quizzically at Stan. He'd hoped he wouldn't ask. Of course he wanted to ride with them because then he could see Wendy, but he also didn't want them to _know_ that he wanted to ride with them. He was hoping it would just be assumed. Shit. After a long moment of silence Stan and Kyle both looked towards him, indicating their expectation of some kind of response. However, when it didn't come Kyle decided to speak up.

"You know, you don't have to act like you hate us all the time. If you want a ride just say so."

Craig furrowed his brow, "I don't _act_ like I hate you guys. I _do_ hate you guys. I'll drive myself," he huffed as he adjusted his backpack and forced his way past them, purposely knocking shoulders with Stan. Stan instinctively reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him close. Kyle immediately got out of the way as the two of them stared each other down. Craig smirked arrogantly toward him, thoroughly amused. If this was the way it was going to be, then fine; Stan wasn't going to win this one.

"Don't fuck with me, Tucker. I'll beat the shit out of you, I swear it!" Stan threatened.

Craig rolled his eyes before yanking his arm away. Stan let him go, a little surprised to see Randy standing at the end of the hallway.

"Dad? What're you doing home? Don't you have work?" Stan asked, a little flustered.

Randy eyed him for a moment as he cautiously spoke, "yeah, but I decided to go in late. I wanted to take you boys to school today."

Stan's eyes were wide with confusion as he handed them all paper bags.

"I made lunches, too," he said awkwardly, stepping backwards and putting his hands behind his back, his fingers nervously tapping one another as he waited for a response.

"Oh, uh, thanks…I already told Wendy I would get her, though…" Stan explained, feeling bad about rejecting his father's gesture. He knew he wanted to do something nice for Craig.

"That's okay. I'll pick her up, too. There's enough room," he said quickly. He really wanted to take them. He thought that, maybe, if he spent some more time with Craig he'd decide to stay. As he waited for a response, he looked towards his unfamiliar son. Craig had a fairly amused look on his face, not nearly as put off as Stan. His crystal blue eyes eventually met Randy's, the two of them looking each other over quietly. Stan and Kyle both glanced at each other, taking note of the silent exchange between Randy and Craig, a little surprised. Suddenly, Craig swallowed, a rare glimpse of empathy on his face as he spoke.

"Yeah, okay. I'd like a ride."

Stan and Kyle both looked a little shocked at his kindness. He didn't bother to look at either of them, focused on his father. As much as he didn't want to be, he was pretty intrigued by him. He had to admit, the resemblance between the two of them was really striking. It was almost as though he were looking at his future-self, albeit with a mustache he'd never be caught dead with.

"Okay then," Randy said awkwardly, reaching his hand into his pocket, fishing out his keys, "let's go."

Stan and Kyle both watched for a second, entirely stunned as Craig adjusted his backpack and followed his equally shocked father. However, a small amount of jealousy quickly settled in Stan's belly, causing him to follow after them. He'd be damned if Craig was going to be the compliant one with his father; especially because he knew it was all bullshit. Craig was the most stubborn, obnoxious asshole he knew.

As they all loaded into the car, Craig immediately pulled his phone out and started texting, which piqued Stan's curiosity. However, he decided he'd better ignore it and make sure his dad knew where the hell they were going.

"You know where Wendy lives, Dad?"

Randy started the car and glanced as Stan in the rearview mirror.

"What's her address again? I haven't been over that way in a while," he admitted.

Ever since Stan had started driving himself he hadn't bothered to worry about where he was. He was a young man; he could fend for himself sometimes. Still, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt over not knowing where his basically lifetime girlfriend lived. Perhaps Craig wasn't the only one he'd been neglecting.

Stan told Randy the address, not offended at all that he didn't know. His mom had always been the one who did all of the worrying about where he was and what he was doing, so he didn't really think it was Randy's job to know where he was anyway. There certainly weren't any hard feelings over it.

Randy nodded as he started to back out of the driveway and head towards Wendy's house. He hadn't even seen her in quite some time, actually. She hadn't been spending as much time at their house as she used to, which Stan had already brought up in the past. Maybe she was up to something? Once he really thought about it, it kind of did make sense. She wasn't acting in her usual manner. Maybe he should've had a longer discussion with Stan about it. After all, if she was cheating on his son, he wanted to help him find out as soon as possible. No sense in wasting any time on it if it could be helped.

Little did either of them know, the man Wendy couldn't get off of her mind was a lot closer than they'd suspected. As the long, almost torturous car ride went on, Craig kept his eyes focused on the phone, doing his best to make sure neither Stan nor Kyle could see what he was doing; he was texting with Wendy.

_"Hey, Randy wanted to drive me and Stan 2 school. I will be here when we get u. U should try and sit by me, beautiful."_

As he waited for her response, he glanced around the car. Odds of Wendy being able to sit by him weren't looking so great at the moment. All three of them were piled in the back. He figured it would be assumed he'd go sit in the front so Wendy could sit with Stan and Stan could sit with Kyle. He more than likely wouldn't even get to look at her while they drove to school, which was thoroughly disappointing. He wanted nothing more than to be in her lovely company in the awkwardness of the entire situation. These days, Wendy was the only thing giving him any comfort.

As they pulled into her driveway, the car slowing to a halt, he couldn't help but feel his stomach lurch. Her place reminded him of that night. It reminded him of how, had he not been there, he would've been dead like the rest of his family. Fuck. The Tucker's would've been eliminated completely had he not been trying to steal his half-brother's girlfriend away. It was all so fucked up.

"Do you want to sit up front with me?" Randy asked as he turned to look at Craig. He was doing his best not to seem too eager, but he couldn't help himself. He genuinely craved a connection with him.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Whatever," Craig said casually as he hopped out of the car, his heart stopping briefly as he realized Wendy was walking over on his side.

"Hi," he said awkwardly, shifting his backpack on his arm as their eyes locked. She immediately looked uncomfortable. Maybe she hadn't gotten his text? He felt bad as he realized she probably wasn't expecting him to be there. They really hadn't spent much time together while Stan was actually around. He hoped he didn't make anything too obvious.

"Hey Craig," she said softly as she brushed beside him and had a seat beside Stan, planting an affectionate kiss on his lips.

"Hey, Babe," he greeted as she nuzzled up to him, doing her best to act neutral towards Craig, who was already slumping into his seat beside Randy. She couldn't imagine how uncomfortable he must've been trying to acclimate to this new family. Her heart really went out to him, especially because she was starting to develop some pretty strong feelings for him. Christ. He was the last person she should've been getting involved with. There was just something about him, though…

After nuzzling with Stan a little longer she decided to scoot herself away and pulled out her phone. She had gotten Craig's text and not bothered to answer. She wasn't exactly thrilled about the situation when she'd found out. Of course, now that she was actually there with him she really wanted to answer. She didn't want to put out the wrong vibe, but she had to be careful. She didn't want Stan to see.

First things first, she had to make sure her phone was on silent. If they were going to text back and forth she didn't want it to be super obvious, so she was just going to send one to start. She sort of turned her body towards Stan and put her legs into his lap so that she seemed like she was just being affectionate. She started to respond as Stan rubbed her legs and smiled warmly at her.

Shit. That made her feel pretty lousy; he loved her so much and she was acutely aware of it. She loved him, too, of course. It was just that, as she got older, she was becoming more and more aware of the fact that neither of them had been with anyone else. It was more than likely going to happen at some point; weren't they just kidding themselves anyway? Of course, maybe in the end they would be meant for each other. Maybe not. Who knew? Still, she'd never thought _she_ would be the one wandering astray. Wasn't that usually the guy's job? Nonetheless, Craig had her attention and she was determined to flirt with disaster.

" _Sorry I couldn't sit with you. I'm happy to see you though. How was your night?"_

She felt a pit forming in her stomach as she waited, hoping Craig's phone didn't go off obnoxiously loud or anything. Much to her relief, he must've had it on silent because she didn't hear a thing. He also had his phone in his hands, watching and waiting for her response. She watched intently as he typed away at his phone, everyone else in the car completely oblivious to their private conversation.

"So, how're you feeling?" Stan asked, grabbing her attention.

"A lot better today, thanks," she responded, forcing herself to smile at him.

Stan smiled back at her, though not as genuinely as he had before. There was something seriously off with her, he just couldn't quite put his finger on it. She quickly averted her beautiful eyes, noticing she had a text from Craig. She did her best not to smile as she wiggled her feet around in Stan's lap and opened it up.

" _That's okay beautiful. I'm happy to see u 2. It was weird. I miss my family but Randy is pretty nice."_

She bit her lower lip as she looked upwards, catching Craig's eyes in the rear view mirror. Her stomach lurched as she quickly looked back down at her phone, typing her response.

" _So do you think you're going to stay for a while? I think you should give Randy a chance. He is pretty nice."_

As the two of them texted, Kyle couldn't help but notice the timing of their texts. The sudden feeling that the two of them were talking to each other crept up on him. Of course, that didn't really make any sense. What the hell would Wendy and Craig be talking about? He'd never seen the two of them exchange any more than a few pleasantries here and there. As far as he knew, Wendy disliked him as much as they did. Still, he just had this weird feeling that he couldn't quite ignore. As he observed, his eyes met Wendy's, causing her to swallow uncomfortably. They stared at each other for a few seconds before Kyle cleared his throat and looked down at his lap, making the conscious decision to ignore whatever the situation was unfolding in the car. Wendy watched Kyle for a few more seconds, realizing he was probably catching on about their texts. She had to go ahead and put an end to the conversation. She ran her hand through her hair as she opened up the most recent text.

" _Yeah. I think I'll stay. At least 4 a while. When can I have you alone again? I can't stop thinking about u…"_

Fuck. She wanted this conversation to end so badly but, at the same time, she wanted to set something up. Well, maybe she could have the best of both worlds. She glanced toward Kyle one last time, who was still focusing on his lap. She hoped he chose to stay in blissful ignorance, even though she suspected he was a better friend than that. At least, for now, she was safe. She lowered her eyes back to her phone, typing what she was hoping would be her last response.

" _Tonight? Sneak out and meet me at Stark's. Don't expect anything, ok? I won't cheat on Stan. I just want to talk to you."_

As she hit the send button she dropped her phone to her lap and stared up into the rearview mirror, waiting to catch Craig's eyes once more. She waited patiently as he typed away at his phone, no emotion visible that she could catch. She had to admit that she was a little worried he'd lose patience with her. She knew he wanted her; he knew she wanted him. She just wasn't quite ready to go there yet. Stan had been her world for so much of her life, it was a difficult crossroads to be at.

She glanced back down into her lap as Craig set his phone down, waiting for her response. She subconsciously held her breath as she opened the text, preparing herself for the worst. After all, from what she knew of Craig Tucker, he wasn't the most patient person on the planet.

" _I'm not asking u 2 cheat. I just want to be around u. I promise, again, no funny business. Cross my heart. But, like I said, if u want I won't say no."_

She couldn't help but smile as she read it, immediately raising her eyes to the rearview mirror. He was smiling at her as well. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she looked into his eyes. Fuck. She was really starting to find herself unable to maintain control. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to be alone with him again…

"Alright, kiddos," Randy announced as he pulled into the school parking lot, "I'll see you after school? Either me or Sharon will come and get you, okay?"

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. Christ, his dad was being so embarrassing. Why did he have to try so hard?

"Thanks," Craig offered as he shoved his phone into his pocket, hopping out and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"Yes, thanks Mr. Marsh," Wendy said gratefully, removing her legs from Stan's lap and hopping out of the vehicle.

"No problem," Randy answered, practically beaming.

Stan felt another pang of jealousy as he watched his father's affectionate stare. What the hell did Craig even do to earn that sort of love? Shit…he was Randy's bastard son. Stan hardly ever earned a look like that from his dad, and Craig hadn't even done a goddamn thing. He grit his teeth as he hopped out, shutting the door behind him a little too forcefully. He didn't even bother to thank his dad, which Randy didn't really notice anyway. He was too preoccupied trying to win over his new son.

"Thanks," Kyle said softly, all too aware of the tense situation unfolding between the Marsh's.

"You got it!" he responded, turning half-way around to offer him a grin.

Kyle smiled back at him, though he was somewhat uncomfortable. He wished Randy wasn't so oblivious about Stan's emotions. He had always been that way, though. Kyle let out a weighted sigh as he shut the door and headed after his best friend. As he hustled to catch up to Stan, he couldn't help but notice Craig staring at Wendy. He was lurking already near the entrance of the school; one of his many hangouts. Tweek was standing beside him, already in want of more weed. Kyle watched curiously as he exchanged drugs for money as he so often did. However, much to what appeared to be his dismay, Mr. Mackey was suddenly at his side.

"Craig, would you come to my office please?"

"What? Why? I didn't do shit," he immediately responded, hoping to Christ he hadn't been caught dealing. Luckily, he hadn't.

"I know, I know. I just need to talk to you, now, mmkay?"

Craig rolled his eyes. This was definitely the work of Gramma.

"Fine," he acquiesced, adjusting his backpack and preparing to follow his counselor. Mr. Mackey noticed Tweek was, well, spazzing out more than usual.

"You okay there, Tweek?" he asked, furrowing his brow with concern.

Tweek's eye twitched a little as he struggled to respond. He'd never been so close to being caught purchasing his beloved downer.

"Y-yes…everything's fine," he sounded like his teeth were grinding together.

It wasn't all that out of character for him, so Mr. Mackey decided to shrug it off. He led Craig to his office, knowing damn well the poor kid didn't want to be there. His grandmother had requested they meet with one another at least once per week, though. This boy needed guidance through his extremely traumatic loss; neither he nor Mrs. Tucker were entirely convinced Randy Marsh and his bunch would be enough to get through that.

"Come on in," he instructed, subtle empathy in his voice as he unlocked his door and let Craig in. He made his way to his desk and was pleasantly surprised to see Craig having himself a seat. The seasoned counselor folded his hands upon his desk.

"Mmkay, Craig. Now, I think you know why you're here. Your grandmother wants you to come and see me weekly," he started.

Craig raised his eyebrows and leaned back into his seat, folding his arms across his chest. He let a big breath escape his lips as he looked towards the ceiling. Mr. Mackey waited for him to return his gaze before going on, which Craig did eventually do with reluctance.

"Can I have a smoke at least?"

Mr. Mackey considered it. He would definitely get into some shit letting a student smoke in his office, even if he was eighteen. However, he figured it would be more beneficial to just go ahead and let him do it. This kid seriously needed some counseling, and if smoking helped him get through it, then why not allow it?

"Mmkay, but it has to stay between us," he instructed, tapping his hands on his desk.

Craig noticed Mr. Mackey's discomfort and let it roll off of his back as he pulled his pack of cigarettes out, placing one comfortably into his mouth and lighting it. He felt an immediate relief wash over him as he took the first, sizeable drag. Fucking nicotine; it was the best.

"Okay," Craig sighed as he looked toward Mr. Mackey, feeling a bit more relaxed, "how're we going to do this, then?"

Mr. Mackey eyed him for a moment, his hands no longer fiddling. Craig was in his world now.

"Why don't you tell me a little about your family?"

Craig took another drag off his cigarette, scratching at the back of his head and looking upwards. He contemplated lying his ass off; you know, making up some big huge sob story about how his parents molested and abused him relentlessly so he murdered them all and covered it up with a car accident. He decided against it, though, knowing Mr. Mackey wasn't going to buy it. He breathed in, raising his eyebrows in signal of defeat. A look of reluctance remained on his youthful, charming face as he eyed Mr. Mackey.

"What do you want to know?"

The counselor flipped open a piece of paper in his notepad and started scribbling, much to Craig's irritation. He didn't want him keeping records of their conversations.

"Why don't you tell me about your mother?"

Craig let out an appalled laugh, his face showing great contempt. This did not escape Mr. Mackey.

"What about her?" he scoffed.

"Well, what kind of relationship did you have? Were you close?"

Craig's demeanor changed once more, a sadness overtaking him. Mr. Mackey sensed the shift and empathized as Craig stared off, doing his best to avoid eye contact. The youth swallowed softly before looking toward the ground and speaking slowly as he fiddled with his hands.

"Yes. We were close."

A long silence passed between the two of them as Craig fumbled through thoughts of his mother. What was there to say about her? She was the one who sort of threw him into this situation in the first place. Just as Mr. Mackey was about to prod some more, he spoke up.

"You know…yeah, we were close. But not as close as I thought."

Mr. Mackey raised his eyebrows, intrigued by that statement.

"Why do you say that?"

Craig leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs. He puffed aggressively on his cigarette as he spoke.

"Because. You know what's going on. She fuckin' got knocked up by Randy Marsh and _lied_ to me my entire life about where I came from! How could she do that? You know? I could've had a relationship with Randy a long time ago…and Stan? Hell, maybe he and I would actually act like brothers instead of enemies had we known. She deprived me of a goddamn massive part of who I am! How could she do that to me? And I had to find out from Gramma after they all fucking dropped off the Earth, dead!? What the fuck!?" he demanded, his voice raised.

Mr. Mackey nodded, quietly observing his outburst. Clearly this was bothersome to him.

"I'm sure your mom just wanted to protect you, Craig. Did you ever think that she might've just wanted you to consider Thomas as your father? Maybe there's a good reason she kept you away from Randy?"

Craig stared at him, his face blank. He puffed on his cigarette and exhaled, leaning back into his chair once more. He seemed to be relaxed again; his rapidly changing moods were a bit of a red flag, which Mr. Mackey took note of.

"Forget about my mom. I don't want to talk about her anymore," he said flatly.

Mr. Mackey nodded, "Mmkay, well, what do you want to talk about then?"

Craig eyed him before taking the last drag of his cigarette, tossing it to the floor and stomping it out carelessly. Mr. Mackey chose to ignore it, watching Craig closely.

"Nothing. I'm done," he responded, abruptly turning and exiting the office.

Jesus. He really had his work cut out for him with this one.


	8. Handle With Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sharon receives some information that catches her attention.

"Hello?" Charlotte greeted as she responded to the nagging ring of her phone. She hadn't received any calls since Randy; she hoped to God it wasn't him. That had been awkward enough to endure even once.

" _Yes, Charlotte Tucker?"_

"This is she," she responded, assuming it was probably a scammer. She was already in a foul mood; thoughts of her lost family had been clouding up her already foggy mind.

" _Yes, well, hello. I'm so sorry to bother you. My name is Mr. Shultz, I'm Craig's creative writing teacher."_

Craig. Of course.

"Oh, is everything alright?" she asked, her mind immediately considering what kind of trouble he might've gotten into this time.

" _Well, I'm calling to inform you that Craig and another student decided to take it upon themselves to just up and leave my class yesterday."_

Charlotte closed her eyes, struggling to hold in her exasperation. Naturally, she instinctively wanted to handle it herself. At first she had thoughts of what she should say this teacher and what she was going to do to discipline her grandson. However, before she could actually speak she remembered the hard truth of it; Craig was not her responsibility alone. She was going to have to have another conversation with Randy.

"I'm sorry. It will be handled. I'm not sure what you've heard, but we've had a rather large tragedy in our family. My son, that's Craig's father, and his mother and sister were killed in a car accident just the other day. He's going to take a little time…"

She wasn't sure what else she could say. She allowed a moment of silence to pass before the teacher responded.

" _I'm sorry. I wasn't made aware of the situation."_

"It's okay. I doubt my Craig is advertising it. He, uh, can be rather private."

Her heart ached profoundly as she spoke. Of course no one knew. He was always trying to be so strong. He was always trying so hard to be what he considered to be a man. It wasn't a healthy persona to partake of.

_"Yes, I understand. Craig has always been a bit of, well, a hand full. This wasn't anything out of the ordinary, really. I attempted to contact his parents first…"_

Another stab of pain. She needed to go in and update his emergency contact information. Lord, there were so many things that needed to be taken care of. Not to mention the funeral was in just a few days.

"If you could just give him a bit of lenience, I would really appreciate it," she said bluntly as she struggled to process all that she had to do. She was going to be dealing with the Marsh's quite a bit, it would seem.

_"Yes, of course. I don't know that we'll provide the same lenience for the other student involved, though."_

Oh, of course. He'd had an accomplice.

"Who, may I ask, did he leave class with?"

_"Actually, that was what I found to be a bit odd. It was a young lady named Wendy Testaburger. She's a very good student; I've never had any problems with her before. She's a quiet girl; straight A's."_

Charlotte couldn't help but shut her eyes in frustration once more. He had to stop prancing around with all of these different girls. He needed to focus on healing, not sleeping around with the entire female student body. She was all too aware of his proclivity towards promiscuity. It was another thing that worried her enormously.

"I'm very sorry. He, uh, has a way of getting girls to do things outside of their usual nature."

She was having a hard time with this conversation. She really didn't want to explain her grandson's actions. It was about time to put an end to this discussion and move onto the next unpleasant step of this process. Much to her relief, Mr. Shultz seemed to be feeling about the same.

_"Okay, well, I was just obligated to contact a guardian and make sure it was made known. I will also be contacting our school counselor, if that's alright."_

"Yes, that's fine. He's already seeing Mr. Mackey once a week under my advisement."

" _Okay. Have a nice night, Mrs. Tucker. Sorry again to bother you."_

Charlotte nodded to herself, "Thank you. Have a good evening yourself, Mr. Schultz. I assure you, I will do my best to stop this behavior from repeating itself."

She decided to hang up before giving his teacher another chance to continue the conversation. As she held the cordless phone in her hand she let out a troubled sigh. Her fingers trailed the cold, plastic, rounded edges of the hollow phone. She really didn't want to speak with Randy; why did Craig constantly have to put everyone around him in these situations? Of course, she had sympathy because it was fairly obvious he had a lot to deal with, but this behavior wasn't anything new. Perhaps it wasn't so bad she would be a more influential voice in his life now. Someone had to set him on the right path; hopefully she and Randy would be more on the same page than Thomas and Laura had been.

"Well," she mumbled to herself as she pulled a small, handwritten, cursive phone book from the desk beside her. She located Randy's number and slowly dialed the small, glowing keys of her phone.

Ring. Ring.

 _"Hello?"_ an unfamiliar voice greeted. It must've been Randy's wife. What was her name?

"Hello. I'm sorry to bother you…I can't for the life of me remember your name. You're Randy's wife, yes?"

_"Yes…?"_

"Yes, well, then. My name is Charlotte. I'm Craig's grandmother."

…

Sharon felt her heart skip a beat. It was the middle of the day and she hadn't been feeling well. Too much stress with the new situation, so she'd decided to come home early and have some time alone.

"Oh, hi. Um, how are you?" she responded, making her way over to the couch and sinking down into it. She figured this would probably warrant her being seated.

_"I'm okay, thank you. How are you?"_

Pleasantries. Neither one of the two women really enjoyed them.

"I'm fine, thanks. So, what's going on?"

_"Yes. Well…I was hoping to speak with Randy. Is he home?"_

"No, not yet. He's at work. He should be home soon, though. He's supposed to pick up the boys from school."

Maybe she could get out of having this awkward conversation with this elderly stranger.

_"Oh. I see. Um…would it be too much trouble if I spoke with you briefly about Craig?"_

Sharon shut her eyes and put her free hand to the bridge of her nose, pinching lightly in frustration.

"Yes, of course," she responded, trying to conceal her reluctance. It was painfully obvious to Charlotte, but she decided to proceed anyway.

 _"I'm sorry. I know this must all be very uncomfortable for you, given the situation. I'm going to be brief,"_ she prefaced, not wanting to add any more stress upon this poor woman.

Sharon felt a stab of guilt at how obvious she must've been.

"I'm sorry. It's okay. You can take as long as you want. I didn't mean to sound like that."

_"It's okay, really."_

Sharon let out a breath, a little more comfortable.

"Okay, so, what's going on?" she pried, eager to move the conversation forward.

Charlotte breathed out, unhappy that she had to deal with this whole mess. She was getting too old for this drama.

 _"Well, I got a call from the school today. Apparently Craig and another student walked out of class yesterday. I'm just…I wanted to discuss some sort of discipline. Craig does these sorts of things and I really want to try and get him on a tighter leash than his parents kept him on. He's…"_ she could feel herself choking up a bit, despite her best efforts, _"…he's on a bad path."_

Sharon suddenly felt sympathetic. She wasn't sure what she would do if any of this were happening to her son.

"Oh," she said softly, processing the situation. She wasn't sure exactly what to do, seeing as he wasn't hers, "well, I guess I would have to talk to Randy. We are aware he has a tendency to get into trouble at school. My son told us. Also, he tried to smoke when he came in last night, but we asked him not to and he _did_ hand them right over to us. He didn't put up a fight or anything."

Charlotte couldn't help but smile. That sounded very much like him. For the most part, he was a respectful, sweet boy. Just troubled.

_"That's about right. He's a good boy. He really is. But, yes, he can be a bit of a handful."_

Sharon rolled her eyes. Right. A good boy who was always in trouble.

"Yes, well…I'm sure he is."

An awkward silence passed as Charlotte sensed Sharon's resentment. She couldn't really blame her. Obviously her husband had had an affair when he fathered Craig. It had to be painful.

_"Anyway. I really want Randy to work with me, and if you're up to it, I could use all of the help I can get. He's got potential and he has a good heart. He just needs guidance and discipline."_

Sharon nodded to herself, doing her best to swallow her emotions. It wasn't Craig's fault Randy had slept with his mom.

"What's the school going to do about it?"

_"I asked them to go a little easy on him because of what has happened. I'm not sure what they'll do with the girl who ditched with him."_

"Hmmm," Sharon mused out loud, "who was it? I hope they're not too hard on her."

_"I don't know the girl. They told me her name was Wendy, uh, burger something? I' m not sure on the last name."_

Sharon sat up straight. She'd caught her attention.

"Wendy Testaburger?" she asked, an urgency in her voice that made Charlotte feel guarded.

_"Um…yes. That sounds right. Why? Who is that?"_

Sharon's face felt hot. Her only son's girlfriend, that's who the fuck that was! What the hell was Wendy doing running out of class with Craig? She'd vaguely remembered hearing Stan make mention of her saying she'd gone home sick and neglected to tell him until much later. Something was going on…

"Uh, no one. Well, I mean, I know who she is, that's all. No one significant," she attempted to cover her tracks. She wasn't sure what was going on so she wanted to tread lightly. She had a few guesses, though.

_"Okay, well. I'm sorry. I'll let you go. If you could, please have Randy give me a call. I would like to talk with him some more about Craig, and, perhaps you and your family might consider coming to the funeral? It is this Saturday. I really think it would be good for Craig to have his…uh…well, just to have people there for him."_

Sharon was grinding her teeth at this point. His father. She wanted his father to be there with him. This little asshole kid, who was probably fucking _her_ son's girlfriend, wanted _her_ husband to help him through this. Christ. She'd had about all she could take for one day.

"Okay. Goodbye Charlotte," she said firmly as she hung up the phone, not bothering to wait for a response.

She sat on the couch, squeezing the phone tightly in her hand as she parsed through her thoughts. Despite how badly she wanted to have an outburst and start hurling around accusations, she knew better. If she wanted to keep this family together she was going to have to handle this carefully.


	9. Something in the Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little brotherly drama unfolds in the car on the way home from school.

Sharon waited quietly in the car. She had called Randy and told him she would pick up the kids. Of course, he was a little reluctant. Apparently he wanted to spend as much time kissing Craig's ass as he could; he had this compulsive need for everyone to like him. It drove Sharon up the wall.

Still, she had managed to convince him and now she was waiting for them to emerge from the school. A sea of high schoolers had already flooded the parking lot, some entering their own cars and some being scooped up by their parents. It was almost peaceful to watch all of those young adults going about their mundane lives. Maybe things were easier for them? She couldn't help but fantasize living a day in the life of someone else. Things were getting far too complicated in her own.

She sighed as she pushed against the steering wheel, stretching her arms a bit as she struggled to stuff down the stress. She eyed the steering wheel for a few seconds before returning her gaze to the parking lot. There they were. Stan, Kyle, Wendy and Craig. Apparently Kyle was joining them today, too. Very typical. He and Stan were practically conjoined at the hip. At least Kyle was loyal. She wasn't so sure she could say the same about Wendy.

She quickly unlocked the car as the teens approached her. Stan was the first to get in, noting his mother was getting them and deciding to take the front seat. He certainly didn't want her to be subjected to Craig.

"Hey mom," he said affectionately as he leaned over and kissed her cheek. He couldn't help but feel terrible for her. She must've been feeling like shit with everything his father had put her through. Shit. Everything he _was_ putting her through.

"Hey, sweetie," she replied, sounding just about as stressed as she was feeling. It didn't go unnoticed.

Stan quietly watched her face as the rest of the kids piled into the back of the car, noticing that she looked somewhat aged. He'd never seen that before. A pang of guilt hit his stomach as he averted his eyes, completely oblivious as Wendy scooted her way into the middle seat. She did her best to make it seem casual, but it was very intentional. She wanted to sit beside Craig and, not only did this seat afford her this convenience, it came with the added bonus of being just about as close to him as she innocently get. It was perfect.

Kyle slid in on her left as Craig lounged to her right. Sharon discreetly adjusted her rear view mirror so that she could see them both. She wanted to keep tabs on them as they drove home; she wanted to make sure she wasn't being paranoid.

Wendy could feel her heart skip a beat and her face grow hot as her thighs lightly settled against Craig's. He was warm and, as she felt her cheeks flushing, she caught a glimpse of him out the corner of her eye. His face was red, too. She was getting to him as much as he was getting to her. Fuck. What was happening? She couldn't help but think it wasn't the best idea for them to get together tonight. She wasn't sure how much longer she could hold back. He was magnetic.

Craig did his best to ignore his pounding heart. Feeling her body close to his was eternally frustrating. How much longer was he going to have to be patient? Was he holding off only to be rejected in the end? After all, she and Stan had been together just about as far back as he could remember. That wasn't something you just walked away from without putting some serious thought into. Maybe he was nuts for even thinking he could infiltrate their relationship. He was probably just setting himself up for further heartache. He couldn't help but think it may have been in his best interest to quit while he was ahead.

Still….he couldn't deny the way she made him feel. He quietly pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts. He needed to put her out of his mind and, as Sharon backed the car out of the parking lot, he located Tweek and Token's numbers, sending out a group text.

_What are u guys up 2 tonight? I'm going to be at Stark's around midnight. Wanna get faded?_

As Craig distracted himself with his phone, Sharon continued to keep an eye on him and Wendy.

"So, are we all going to our house today? What am I doing?" Sharon asked, not particularly wanting all of these kids in her home. However, if Stan needed the company she wasn't about to deny him. It was a tough situation for everyone, not just her.

"If it's okay, I kind of wanted Kyle and Wendy to come over today," Stan replied, sounding more sheepish than usual. He didn't want to stress his mom out too much. Fuck. It was killing him to look at her. He couldn't help but blame himself a little for her agitated state.

"Yeah, that's okay," she said, realizing Stan was uncomfortable. She reached out and touched his hand briefly, squeezing it and smiling softly toward him. He returned the sentiment before Kyle spoke up, wanting to alleviate some of the tension.

"Thanks Mrs. Marsh. How was your day?"

Sharon smiled and let out a chuckle. Kyle was a good kid. Perhaps old Charlotte should meet a kid who really had a good heart; maybe then she wouldn't be so forgiving of her little delinquent.

"It was alright, thanks. How was school guys?" she asked, addressing the entire car.

"It was fine. Aside from watching Cartman and Bebe making out all morning," Stan spat out, trying to evoke a response from Craig. Much to his satisfaction, he had caught his attention.

Craig lifted his head, his crystal eyes meeting Stan's as he turned his head to watch the scene behind him. That bastard was smirking at him arrogantly. He wanted to punch him in his stupid popular face. However, he managed to keep his cool. He certainly didn't want to have another outburst in front of Wendy.

"She's dating Cartman already?" he asked, his voice softer than usual. It caught Wendy's attention. Why did he care what Bebe did? Supposedly she didn't matter to him in the first place.

"Yeah, didn't take him long at all. What's it been, one day?" Stan mocked.

Sharon raised one of her eyebrows, not sure what was going on.

"Stan," Kyle said, his tone begging his friend not to instigate a fight. It wasn't worth it. Stan, however, chose to ignore his friend's warning.

"What a shame…must suck to have Cartman claiming your girlfriend a day after the breakup," he further taunted.

"Stanley!" Sharon warned, suddenly understanding the situation. Wendy's eyes were wide in the back seat, her cheeks hot.

"What is wrong with you?" Wendy suddenly demanded, causing everyone in the car to silence. Sharon eyed her in the rear view mirror. This was interesting.

"What do you mean?" Stan asked, his blue eyes wide, doing his best to look innocent. Of course, he knew what he was doing. He should've known it would piss Wendy off. She hated it when people were shitty to each other. However, he didn't know just how personal it was for her. She was beginning to care for Craig more than she cared for him. He was losing her and he didn't even know it.

"How can you say something like that? Jesus, Stan…he just lost his whole family."

Kyle eyed her. He agreed with her, but he also felt a deep discomfort in his stomach. Maybe his intuition this morning hadn't been so far off. He stuffed it down. There was already too much happening. This had to be put to the wayside.

Unbeknownst to Kyle, Sharon was harboring the same suspicions. She watched on in silence as she and Stan spoke.

"I…uh…crap. I'm sorry, yeah…" he stammered as his eyes darted between his angry girlfriend and flustered half-brother. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. Shit. Wendy was right. He was just being cruel.

"I'm sorry, Craig," he said, this time sincerely.

Craig's eyes softened a bit as he looked his brother over. Stan. There had always been something about Stan. He hated his goddamn guts but, well, there was also this sort of connection, right? He felt his guard drop a bit, the warmth of genuine forgiveness settling in his belly.

"Yeah, sure. It's cool," he replied before shrugging it off and returning his gaze to his phone. An awkward and, admittedly stunned silence settled over the car as Stan faced forward. No one could believe what they'd just witnessed; Stan and Craig had shared a genuine moment of…concern for one another? Sharon swallowed hard. She hoped to Christ she was wrong about Craig and Wendy…or Craig as a whole for that matter. She could see the beginnings of a bond forming between them.

The rest of the ride was silent as everyone tried to sift through their thoughts. Craig, of course, was distracting himself as he planned a night of debauchery with his friends. Token and Tweek were both down for the night. Now all he had to do was figure out how to squeeze out Wendy. It was better to just stay away.

As Craig read his texts from Tweek and Token, he was surprised to see another pop up on his screen. It was from Wendy. He felt his pulse quicken as he glanced up at her quietly. Her large eyes were staring at him, almost aching. Fuck. What was wrong? He quickly averted his eyes and opened her text.

_Are you okay?_

He felt a heaviness settle in his chest. She could tell he was having second thoughts. Fuck. What was wrong with him? She was getting worried about him. He didn't want to make her worry. Christ…what the fuck did he care what happened to Stan? Jesus…he'd almost bought into that family bullshit for a second. Stan was nothing to him; that's what he was.

He swallowed hard, determined to wiggle himself out of this heartwarming situation with the Marsh's. He didn't belong with them. He didn't belong anywhere. He felt his heart beating faster, angry with himself for the brief moment of weakness. Craig Tucker didn't open up to anyone. He was tired of being patient. He was tired of feeling so lost. There was only one thing he knew for certain and that was his unrelenting desire for Wendy Testaburger. He suddenly began to type furiously into his phone, not bothering to filter himself for the first time in a while.

Wendy watched quietly as his emotions fleeted around, settling on what appeared to be rage. God. What was it about him that had her so captivated? Her stomach ached as she waited for his text, sinking even lower as soon as his name popped up on her screen. She felt her face and ears running hot as she opened it, the rest of her body heating as she red his fiery response.

_No. I won't be okay until I've made u mine. I know I've promised to be patient, and I will be, but I can't lie. I don't think I can take this much longer. I want to know what u feel like…_

He watched out the corner of his eye as she read his response. He felt a little sick. He knew it was wrong. He knew he could be ruining a good thing with Stan and his family. However, in classic Craig Tucker fashion, he fully intended on getting in his own way.


	10. I'm Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig connects with Sharon and decides to reach out to someone very important to him.

Craig couldn't help but feel a little nauseated as they all entered the Marsh residence. He didn't like the feel of entering a house he didn't consider a home at the day's end. How was he supposed to ever be comfortable in this place? It didn't seem possible.

He quietly sat with his sadness as Stan and Kyle chatted excitedly, immediately heading upstairs for Stan's room. Wendy hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for Craig to follow suit. However, she thought better of herself and quickly made her way up with the other two. It wasn't her concern as far as the rest of the world would see it.

Sharon cautiously walked into the kitchen, taking note of the fact that Craig was walking through her living room like a zombie. She felt a little sick as he slowly followed her into the kitchen and set his backpack on the ground beside the table. She watched as he sat down and rested his head in his hands. He looked utterly depressed and, on some level, it did break her heart to see him like that. Shit. She was going to have to console him.

She watched him for a moment before sighing and walking up to the table, sitting down across from him. He didn't seem to notice. She furrowed her brow as she observed him, noting he looked rather exhausted, yet still incredibly handsome. He really did look so much like Randy had when they'd first met. Amazing. It still saddened her that Stan turned out more in her image than his. He used to be quite the looker. No wonder this kid had girls hanging all over him; well, at least that's what she'd heard.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly, trying not to startle him.

"Huh?" he shifted his gaze toward her. She felt her stomach lurch. She was very uncomfortable dealing with this unfamiliar child.

"I asked if you're doing alright?" she was genuinely concerned, despite her reservations.

"Oh," he said, blinking stupidly toward her. She squeezed her lips together for a moment, realizing it was pretty obvious he was not okay.

"You know…" she began, doing her best to be cautious. His eyes were fixated on her, very intense, "…it's okay to talk about it. I mean, I can't exactly imagine what you're going through or how you must feel, but…well, I just think it's healthier if you talk with someone. I'm not saying it has to be me or anything…"

"Gramma has me seeing Mr. Mackey every week now…" he suddenly stated, unable to hold back.

The two of them eyed each other, trying to decide whether or not they were actually going to have this conversation. Her brown eyes were wide as her nerves began to race. Craig could see she was uncomfortable, but, hey…she was the one who started it.

"I don't want to talk to him, though," he continued, this time more calm. Sharon's shoulders dropped a bit as she relaxed herself. Clearly this was going to happen.

"Why not?" she asked, giving into the situation.

"Well…I dunno. I just don't. I mean… _I_ know I'm fucked up. Everyone knows that. But do I really need to, like, make it official and spill all of my shit out on a counselor? I guess…I just don't like it, that's all. It feels too public," he sighed as he leaned back in his chair, throwing one of his arms over the back of it.

Sharon nodded. She understood. He was probably already pretty talked about in the halls with everything that was going on. It likely did leave a lot of room for rumors.

"Hey," she suddenly said, her words getting a little ahead of her brain, "why don't we step out back for a minute?"

Craig eyed her for a second, a little unsure of where she was going with that. He decided to shrug it off and follow her, though.

"Yeah, okay," he said casually as he got out of his chair and headed outside with her. She seemed a little nervous as she stepped outside and shut the sliding glass door behind her.

"Alright…come over here," she insisted as she walked away from the door and headed towards a row of bushes in the backyard. It looked pretty secluded from the rest of the house.

"Um…you aren't going to, like…molest me or something, are you?" he half-way joked.

"What?" she asked, blinking toward him dumbfounded.

His cheeks flushed as he stammered, "I mean…not that I _wouldn't…_ you're totally hot for an older chick and all…" her eyes were huge, flustering him even further, "I mean, but…I don't think that's a great idea, that's all," he concluded before clearing his throat and stepping back a bit.

Sharon shook her head and let out a laugh, "Jesus…no. Calm down. This is where I come to smoke whenever I want a moment to myself. I just thought it might make this whole thing easier if we could have a cigarette," she explained, realizing her behavior did seem a little odd out of context.

He looked toward her cautiously, "really?"

"Yeah, sure. It'll be our secret," she responded. She felt a little guilty encouraging this kid to smoke, but he was old enough to buy them for himself anyway. She remembered how much she used to smoke at his age.

"Alright then," he said as he took one out and popped in into his mouth, whipping a lighter out of his jacket pocket and setting it ablaze. He felt his entire body start to melt into a state of relaxation as he took in the nicotine and let out the smoke.

"This is good," he admitted, smiling toward Sharon gratefully, "thank you."

She nodded, feeling a little silly to be hiding out in the backyard and smoking with this kid. She hardly ever smoked, though, and it was kind of nice to have someone to do it with. Usually she bunkered down out there in the middle of the night so Randy and Stan wouldn't know.

"So, what's been going on with you then, kiddo?" she asked, trying to be casual.

"Well…" he started, shaking his head in disbelief. He couldn't believe he was actually going to talk to her, but he kind of wanted to. She seemed safe enough, "…uh…I don't know. I mean, it's just been…hard. Don't get me wrong. I like you guys alright and everything. It's just that…this place doesn't feel like home to me at all. I can't picture myself actually living here and calling you guys family and all. I had a family. A mom. A dad. A sister. Fuck…I just feel like I'm floating around in this world by myself. I don't really know where I'm supposed to go or what I'm supposed to do…"

He looked towards her before shrugging, "I'm just…lost."

Sharon nodded, taking another drag. That was about what she'd figured.

"What about Bebe? Why did you guys break up?" she asked, remembering Stan's nasty comments from earlier.

Craig let out a laugh, "what about her? I wasn't, like, in love with her or anything. We just…well, you know," he sighed. He felt a little bad admitting that to Sharon. He probably shouldn't say something like that to another woman, "sorry," he added.

Sharon shrugged, "it's okay. It happens."

He nodded as he continued to smoke. A moment of silence passed between them before Sharon decided to speak again.

"It seemed like it bothered you that she's seeing Cartman, though."

Craig nodded. Yeah. That definitely did bother him.

"Not because I care about her. Well, okay, maybe I do a little. But not romantically. I guess it just bothers me that she was mine and now that fat fuck is screwing around with her. She's not _that_ cheap. She shouldn't be wasting her time with him. She's probably one of the better girlfriends I've had. Plus…it's sort of an ego thing, too, I guess. Nobody wants _Cartman_ banging their ex. Kind of makes you feel like the girl you were fucking has no standards whatsoever."

Sharon raised her eyebrows and nodded. Cartman was a pretty foul kid. She could never figure out why Kyle and Stan hung around him.

"Okay, fair enough," she stated, shuffling her feet in the snow, "and what about you ditching class with Wendy yesterday?"

He felt a pit in his stomach, though he wasn't surprised she knew about it. Mr. Schultz had talked to them both at the end of the day, letting them off with a warning.

"I convinced her to go with me. We're friends, sort of, and I wanted to tell her what I knew about you guys. I don't talk to my best friend anymore. I didn't really have anyone to tell," he explained, hoping it sounded plausible.

Sharon nodded quietly. It sounded reasonable enough. Maybe she had overreacted…

Craig eyed her for a moment, a small amount of affection warming his belly.

"Look, this might be kind of weird to say, but you kind of remind me of my mom. The good parts of her."

Sharon looked toward him, entirely caught off guard.

"Yeah, well…maybe that's why Randy fucked her," she sighed, her voice a little shaken. Craig felt his stomach drop.

"No, I didn't mean it like that…" he said apologetically.

"I know. It's not your fault," she assured him, taking a shaky drag from her cigarette before tossing it into the snow. She looked towards Craig, her eyes a little glazed over. Fuck. He'd made her cry.

"Hey…" he said softly as he walked up to her and put his arm around her shoulders, rubbing with his thumb, "I'm sorry. I'm sure it sucks having me here. I'm pretty much a walking reminder of a really shitty time in your life."

She let out an appreciative laugh, sniffling a bit as tears made their way down her cheeks.

"No," she said gently as she looked up at him, "I'm glad you're here," she admitted, realizing she genuinely meant it.

Craig smiled at her before pulling her closer for a second, squeezing her arm affectionately.

"Well, alright then," he said, smirking before letting her go and poking her nose, "let's get back to the rest of them, eh?"

Sharon shook her head and smiled, a little surprised at how quickly she'd just bonded with him. Life was funny that way sometimes. As Craig made his way back inside he realized that Stan, Kyle and Wendy were all in the kitchen.

"What were you doing?" Kyle asked as he walked in reeking of cigarettes. Dumb question.

"Smoking," he answered, not bothering to cover it up.

"Of course you were," Stan scoffed.

Kyle and Wendy were both sitting at the table munching on sandwiches while Stan stood at the counter, his back to the sliding glass door. He wasn't aware as his mother quietly walked in behind Craig, eyeing Kyle and Wendy. She was hoping Stan wouldn't notice her.

"Yeah, whatever," he said as he walked up beside Stan to take a look at the sandwich he was making.

"Dude…you reek…" he protested, waving his hand in Craig's face.

"What're you making?" he asked, ignoring him.

"PB&J."

"Cool…can I have half?" he asked, pushing the conversation forward. He was well aware he was aggravating Stan, he just didn't give a fuck.

Stan sighed before reaching up into the cupboard and grabbing another paper plate. He slapped half of his sandwich on it.

"Here," he said as he shoved the plate in Craig's face. Craig took it and hopped up onto the counter to sit and happily munch on the sandwich.

"Killer…" he mumbled before smiling playfully at Kyle and Wendy.

Kyle rolled his eyes while Stan had himself a seat beside Wendy, who was doing her best to avoid looking at Craig at all.

"Hey, mom…" Stan said, choosing not to harass her about the fact that she'd obviously been outside smoking with Craig. He was aware of her secret night smokes. He wasn't so sure his father was, "did you want anything? I can make you one, too…?"

Craig looked towards her, his mouth full as he realized he probably should've asked the same question. Damnit. Point for Stan.

"No, that's okay, hon. I'm not hungry," she assured before making her way into the living room. There was a basket of laundry there that needed folding so she grabbed it and took upstairs to her bedroom with her. She figured the kids needed some time to work out the drama.

Stan's eyes landed on Craig, a little bothered.

"What the hell were you and my mom talking about out there?" he confronted, braver now that his mother wasn't in the room.

Craig smiled at him arrogantly. He wasn't going to answer. It was none of his business. Besides, best to let him squirm anyway. Stan grit his teeth as he realized he wasn't going to answer. What an asshole.

"Dude…you really should calm down. You want some weed? You know I've got some…" Craig offered sarcastically.

"Shut up," Stan insisted, giving him a warning look.

Wendy squeezed his arm, though he didn't pay her any mind. Shit. She did _not_ want to be in the middle of this situation. Craig was being an asshole; she wasn't even sure what it was she liked about him when he got in these moods. He was often acting this way; trying to get a rise out of people. Why couldn't he just be the person he was when they were alone together? Why did he always have to put on such a show?

"I'm not watching this," she suddenly stated as she stood herself up, shoving her seat out from behind her. All of the boys turned to look at her, Craig and Stan both wide-eyed. Kyle, for the briefest moment, could see the concern on Craig's face. He cared what Wendy thought. He actually cared about something.

"Sorry," Craig suddenly spat out before hopping off of the counter and setting his plate down, "I should go out. You guys just…chill. I'll leave you alone," he said, sounding utterly defeated as she shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and sheepishly walked out of the house.

As they heard the door shut behind him everyone held still as if they were waiting for the world to fall.

"What the hell was that?" Stan asked, entirely shocked, "I've never seen Tucker back down from a fight!"

Wendy could feel her heart racing. Christ, did she really have that big of an effect on him?

"I don't know," she responded, genuinely uncertain.

"I think he actually gives a shit what you think, Wendy," Kyle said, somewhat wanting to put her on the spot. He was suspicious as hell now.

Wendy swallowed as she eyed Kyle, her eyes filled with anxiety.

"What? Why the hell would he care what Wendy thinks? I'll tell you what that was…Craig's a little pussy bitch, that's what that was," Stan insisted, completely oblivious.

Wendy watched Kyle, a pleading look on her face. His emerald eyes searched her over, a hardened look on his. He wanted to push it, but decided now wasn't the time. If she really was up to something it was only a matter of time before someone had some hard evidence. The truth would come out.

…

Craig sped along the street in his truck, uncertain as to why he was headed this way in the first place. He knew this was probably a mistake, but he couldn't help himself. He felt sick to his stomach as his tires screeched down the little suburban street. He was almost there.

His heart started to pound in his chest as he pushed harder on the gas, not sure why he was in such a hurry to get there. Even so, he pushed the limits of his truck until he spotted the familiar house, slamming on his breaks and screeching to an obnoxious halt. As he hopped out of his truck and slammed the door behind him, he took note of a pair of girls eyeing him disdainfully. He smirked at them and winked, causing them to roll their eyes and move along. Whatever. He didn't care.

He stood especially tall as he walked up the driveway, doing his best to appear confident. The fact of the matter was, though, he was nervous as all hell. As he approached the front door he took a moment to close his eyes and breathe. It was going to be okay; at least that was what he was trying to convince himself as he reached up and rang the door bell. He stepped back and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He hopped up and down a bit on the balls of his heels as he waited, his stomach dropping as the front door opened.

"Craig? What the hell are you doing here?" Clyde's familiar voice asked, though he didn't sound angry.

"Uh…hey," he said as he nervously scratched the back of his head, "can I…uh…fuck. Can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked, realizing he was probably going to say no. Still, they had been close once. Maybe he could find it in his heart.

Clyde looked him over before raising his eyebrows, shaking his head, and letting out a sigh, "yeah, alright."

He stepped outside and shut the door behind him. Craig felt his heart skip a beat. Really? He was going to listen to him? He couldn't help but smile, which didn't go unnoticed.

"Don't get your panties all wet. I can only talk for a minute, okay?" he insisted as he walked away from the house.

"Yeah, okay," Craig said hastily, eager to please his ex-best friend. He followed behind him as Clyde walked to the curb and sat down. Craig sat down beside him and lit a cigarette.

"You want one?" he offered, holding out the pack.

"No, dude. I don't do that shit anymore," he insisted.

It was true. Since he and Craig had stopped hanging out he'd really cleaned up his act. Still, there _was_ a part of him that missed the trouble they used to get into together. They were a couple of real punks back in the day.

"Yeah, right," Craig said sheepishly as he put the pack back in his pocket. A moment of silence passed between them as Craig struggled to find the right words.

"Why are you here?" Clyde finally asked, not wanting to beat around the bush for too long.

Craig scratched the back of his head once more, feeling pretty vulnerable.

"Look…uh…I…I never said sorry to you, for what I did," he began, avoiding eye contact with the friend who'd once been so closely his.

"No, no you did not," Clyde agreed. So this was what he wanted to talk about, "but it doesn't really make a difference. It was too big and it was too long ago. Too little, too late sort of deal, hate to break it to you."

"I know. Just…hear me out, alright? Please?"

Clyde looked at him, surprised to meet his friend's light blue eyes. It wasn't often they made eye contact these days. Despite his better judgment, he was intrigued.

"Okay…what is it?"

Craig breathed in, trying to prepare himself for what he had to say, "okay, um, here's the thing. When you were, let's say…scolding me…in the lunchroom the other day. I didn't mean to be the way I was. I just…I can't help it, you know? You know me. You know this. The thing is…what I _wanted_ to say…I mean, the way I feel is…uh…"

Clyde was looking at him curiously. Craig struggled but managed to let out a defeated sigh, "what I'm _trying_ to say, Clyde, is that I really fucking miss you. I miss you and I know I fucked up. I'm a fucking asshole and I know it and I'm afraid to admit it, but, I really fucking need you right now. I don't have anyone. I'm staying with the Marsh's now and we're all supposed to come together and be one big family but I just can't do it. My family is fucking _dead_. They're not ever coming back…please…I…I just can't do this shit alone man…I can't…"

Clyde stared at him blankly. He had heard about what happened to his parents through the grapevine. Maybe something that big could actually change him? He sounded sincere.

"I…well…look, okay. Okay. I'll try, alright? I can't promise things will be the way they were. I don't really feel the same about you anymore. But…I'll try," he responded, feeling like he might be making the wrong decision. Could he trust Craig anymore?

"I know. I know. Just...will you please come to the funeral this weekend? It would mean a lot to me."

Clyde felt like his head was spinning.

"Yeah, okay. Yeah," he said quietly, falling into another long silence.

Craig nodded.

"Okay, well. I gotta go. I've got some shit I gotta do," he said, abruptly standing.

"Yeah, sure…" Clyde responded, also standing.

An awkward moment passed between the two of them as they contemplated whether or not they should hug. They both wanted to embrace, but neither of them felt like they could do it. Craig sniffled a bit before speaking.

"Alright…thanks. I'll see you around," he said before walking off into his truck, starting it, and driving off.

Clyde watched quietly as he vanished into the distance. Had that really just happened?

Craig Tucker was definitely not okay.


	11. Keep Talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig gets honest with Mr. Mackey.

It was ten in the morning. Craig hadn't bothered to show up for his morning classes, nor had he returned to the Marsh's the night before. He'd sent Wendy a text cancelling his plans with her, better heads prevailing. He needed some space from her; some time to sort out what he wanted and where he was going. Despite the cancellation with Wendy, he had kept his plans with Tweek and Token, the three of them staying up entirely too late. Now he found himself knocking on the door of Mr. Mackey's office; he needed to talk to someone. He had to get some of it out.

Mr. Mackey opened the door and welcomed him in, gesturing for him to take a seat. He obliged, sitting back and lighting himself a cigarette.

"How are you feeling?" Mr. Mackey asked, cautiously eyeing the troubled young man before him. He looked dirty and tired, his eyed decorated with dark circles. He was grief ridden; he wasn't okay.

"I didn't go home last night," he said flatly, taking a drag.

"Mmkay, and where is that? Do you mean the Marsh's?"

Craig tugged on the sleeves of his sweater and smirked, considering that one. He thought about giving Mr. Mackey some shit for making a big deal of it, but decided against it. He wasn't in that sort of mood. Instead, he allowed the stale, thick air between them to remain tense and silent. However, Mr. Mackey was intent on letting Craig lead the conversation. He sat there, blinking and staring, with his little hands folded atop his stupid desk.

"Yeah. I didn't go back to the Marsh's," he said flatly, his eyes despondent.

Mr. Mackey nodded, his thumbs twiddling as he quietly observed.

"Where did you sleep?" he questioned, deciding to take this step-by-step.

"In my truck."

The counselor nodded once more before leaning back into his seat. Perhaps a more casual disposition would draw him out. He was pleased to see Craig's blue eyes focusing on him, the noise of the adjustment catching his attention.

"Mmkay, and where was your truck?" he urged, knowing damn well something significant had happened to him last night.

Craig leaned back in his chair, mirroring his counselor's body language. Mr. Mackey ignored it, knowing it was meant for mockery. He observed a frustrated look settling upon Craig's face at his lack of response. He was getting to him.

"I parked it in the driveway of my parents' house."

Mr. Mackey nodded. They were getting somewhere, now.

"Did you go inside?"

"No."

The counselor put his elbow on the arm of his chair and pressed his finger to his forehead, staring at the teenager in front of him. He wanted to continue prodding, but he also wanted Craig to acknowledge the fact that he _wanted_ to divulge. He stared ahead at him expectantly, while Craig smoked silently. Eventually, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, his blue eyes filled with intensity as he stared Mr. Mackey down. His voice was harsh as he spoke.

"Don't you want to know what I did there?"

Mr. Mackey remained calm, mirroring Craig's casual attitude. He didn't want to give him a response. Craig needed to divulge without pretending he was doing it for his counselor's benefit. He had to do it because he both wanted and needed to. Craig finally relented.

"I jerked off in the driveway and went to sleep."

Craig leaned back in his seat and took another drag of his cigarette, staring at Mr. Mackey expectantly.

"Why did you do that?"

Craig rolled his eyes. He'd hoped for more of a response. Mr. Mackey wasn't going to give him a reaction, which kind of made it harder for him to talk. He chose to continue with the conversation anyhow.

"Because, the girl I want won't fuck me," he said, frustration heavy in his voice.

"Mmkay. Why is that?"

Craig shifted his weight a little, his discomfort apparent. Mr. Mackey watched, realizing he'd touched a nerve. He was no longer projecting an air of arrogance; he was now guarded.

"Because. It's complicated."

Mr. Mackey rubbed his finger across his brow before sighing and leaning forward, his elbows safely returned to his desk. Craig swallowed as he mulled over his evening. He'd felt bad cancelling on Wendy, and she'd never sent a response. He was sure she was mad. He'd had to, though. It was the right thing to do. After he'd hung out with his friends he really did drive over to his family home. He sobbed in his driveway entirely too long. He thought about his family and wanted so badly to go in and just get his stuff. He couldn't bring himself to do it. Eventually, he did jerk off to relieve some of the stress of his desire for Wendy; it also helped him to go to sleep. It wasn't as dark and depraved as he'd tried to make it sound.

"Who is she, Craig?"

Craig averted his eyes. Should he share? It felt dangerous.

"Wendy Testaburger. I think the rest is pretty fuckin' obvious," he said quietly; he sounded horribly ashamed.

Mr. Mackey was quiet for a moment before clearing his throat, "well, what do you think? Could you do something like that to Stan?"

Craig felt tears nagging at him again. He sniffled and wiped at his eyes, lifting his gaze and focusing out the window to his right. One tear made its way down his cheek as he looked toward Mr. Mackey, giving steady, honest eye contact.

"You know something…that's the part that really scares the shit out of me."

His gaze was piercing. Mr. Mackey quietly waited for the rest.

"I could…and if she gives me the chance, I will."

Mr. Mackey nodded. That was a profoundly honest, self-aware statement. Craig was learning something about himself, and furthermore, acknowledging it out loud. This was a good sign.

"When did you realize this?" he asked, knowing all too well Craig's reputation for burning bridges when it came to sex.

"I dunno. I guess seeing Clyde yesterday got me thinking…"

"You spoke with Clyde?" he interrupted, a little surprised. He was well aware they hadn't talked in quite some time.

Craig's eyes widened a little. Oh, right. He considered pulling back and shutting down, but pushed forward despite his reservations. It wouldn't _kill_ him to talk about these things, right? And Mr. Mackey couldn't tell anyone else.

"Uh, yeah. I did. I went by his house yesterday and asked him to come to the funeral this weekend."

Mr. Mackey sat up a bit, a pleased expression on his face.

"Well, that's good Craig. That's some real progress, mmkay? Is he going to go?"

"Yeah. He's coming."

Mr. Mackey smiled at him genuinely before folding his hands on his desk and pressing forward.

"Well, alright then. Is that what got you thinking about the appropriateness of your situation with Wendy?"

Craig shrugged before leaning forward and putting his cigarette out in a small ashtray on Mr. Mackey's desk. He'd bought it just for his sessions with Craig.

"Yeah. I guess I just thought it would be better to stay away from her."

The counselor nodded, putting the pieces together in his mind. Still, there was something nagging at him.

"You don't trust yourself, though, do you?" he mused.

Craig stared out the window for a moment, swallowing hard.

"What if…what if I'm in love with her? Does that change anything? Does it matter if it's more than just fucking I'm interested in?"

"Are you?"

Craig looked toward him, a saddened look on his face, "I can't get her off of my mind. It's like…" he paused, searching for the right words, "…she's the only thing that feels good to me right now. I can talk to her. I think she's beautiful, and smart, and kind…"

His voice trailed off. Mr. Mackey gave him a moment before repeating himself.

"Are you in love with her, Craig?"

He blinked, considering it.

"Yes. I am."

Mr. Mackey swallowed hard. That definitely complicated his situation.

"Well, Craig…what do you think you should do here?"

Craig tapped his hand on the arm of his chair, visibly agitated.

"You want to know what I think?"

Mr. Mackey nodded at him in the affirmative.

"I think I'm really going to be kicking myself later if I don't at _least_ ask her how she feels."

The seasoned counselor nodded. It was understandable. Even if it wasn't ideal, love was love. It was just about the most powerful force on the planet, aside from perhaps grief; both of which Craig was consumed with. They eyed each other for a moment before Craig smiled softly at him and waved his hand carelessly.

"Don't worry. Whatever I decide to do, it's not on you. I'm a basket case. Quit trying to fix me," he offered as he stood and tapped Mr. Mackey's desk. He turned and left the office, leaving the counselor especially worried for him.

He was wrong. He could help him. He just had to keep talking.


	12. Just This Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something happens between Wendy and Craig.

"I can't believe he didn't come home last night…my dad is going ape shit," Stan complained.

Kyle shook his head before shooting an accusing glance toward Wendy. He wasn't sure where Craig went last night, but he had a hunch it had something to do with her. Something was definitely going on between those two. Wendy slouched and pulled in her shoulders, trying to appear smaller under Kyle's unforgiving gaze. She knew what he thought, and she knew he was wrong, but she couldn't say a thing about it; that would mean admitting there was something there to begin with. It was better to just leave it alone and let him think whatever he wanted. No crime had been committed on her part, so any accusations would only make him look bad, should he assert them. Besides, she knew he wouldn't have the nerve to say anything without proof. He wasn't a fool.

"Well, sounds about right to me," Cartman insisted, hugging Bebe close.

Wendy couldn't help but feel an ache in her belly as she looked at the two of them. They'd been all over each other in the few days that had passed since the breakup. How had she moved on so quickly? Clearly she'd had no feelings for him in the first place; why had she made such a big deal? It all appeared very dumb and dramatic to her.

"He's such a fucking asshole! I knew letting him over was a bad idea…" Stan continued to rant, unwilling to admit that, deep down, he was upset because he was worried. His father had been up all night, constantly calling Craig's shut off phone. Stan, out of both sympathy for his father and genuine concern for Craig, had even tried to reach him a few times. Had Randy been able to fall asleep, he would've gotten into his car and gone searching for him; he hadn't, though. He didn't want to make Randy worry about him, too.

"Holy shit," Bebe muttered, turning her head and blowing out a bit of air. The rest of the table looked upwards, tensions immediately soaring as they spotted Craig.

There he was, strolling through the lunchroom, tray in hand, looking for a place to sit. No sooner had they spotted him before he caught their frustrated gazes. He swallowed hard, enormously uncomfortable. Fuck. Stan was probably furious with him. The Marsh's must've been beside themselves last night. Guilt settled into his stomach as he tried to find a quick way out of the impending situation. He even went so far as to take a step backwards, his eyes unwilling to separate from Stan's.

He hesitated for another moment before deciding against it. He couldn't run away. He couldn't be that selfish; it was bad enough, what he'd already done. He bit his lip and slowly stepped forward, his eyes still locked with his brother's. Both of the boys felt nauseated as he approached and sat down beside Kyle, across from Stan and Wendy. Neither of them knew what to say. Bebe, being the dramatic person that she was, abruptly picked up her tray and walked away, causing Cartman to get up and follow her. It was just the five of them now, including Kenny.

"Hey," Craig said quietly.

"Hey," was all Stan could manage in return.

An awkward silence settled between the two of them as Stan looked him over, noting the dark circles under his tired, sad eyes. Clearly he hadn't been out screwing around, which didn't go unnoticed by anyone else at the table.

"Dude," Stan began cautiously, aware something was up, "where were you last night? My dad was really freaking out…"

"I know," he spat out, his voice wavering as though he were on the edge of tears, "I'm really sorry. I fucked up," he admitted, staring down at the table. Apologizing was not easy for him, so he preferred to avoid eye contact if he could.

Stan nodded his head, quietly understanding it hadn't been an easy night for his half-brother. He felt deeply sympathetic in that moment. Shit. He really did care.

"Look," Craig continued, feeling obligated to try and explain himself, "when I left yesterday, I went to see Clyde. I just needed to be alone after, so I parked my car in front of my old house," he admitted, unable to further explain. Some information belonged only to him.

"It's okay, dude. You don't need to explain, I get it," Stan offered, trying to ease the situation. He'd been furious with Craig but, now that he saw him face to face, it had fizzled.

Craig tapped his hand nervously on the table, "thanks, man."

Stan nodded before pushing his food around on his plate. He had no appetite, but he also wanted out of the conversation. Craig pulled his phone out of his pocket and casually started typing a message into it, wanting to end the nauseating moment he'd just shared with Stan. He didn't want to go on this way; he didn't want to get closer to him. How could he possibly allow that to happen when he was in love with his girlfriend? It just wasn't right. He couldn't have a relationship with them both. Wendy felt her phone buzz in her pocket, but it was on silent and the cafeteria was loud, so she was sure no one else noticed.

"I've gotta use the restroom," she blurted out, not sure what else she could say to get away from them all. There was no way she was going to read whatever he'd texted her so close to Stan, and she knew it was him.

Stan nodded at her and smiled. She seemed a little flustered, which caught his attention. She was still acting so strangely. She nodded back, offering him a smile as she stood and left the table. As she did so, she happened to catch another frustrated look from Kyle. He was obviously aware they were texting back and forth, she was certain of that back when he'd noticed them in the car. If Kyle was going to get any evidence, she figured that was where it would come from. She mentally took note that she'd better let Craig know so he could clear out his texts. Her heart was racing as she hurried into the bathroom, plowing through the door. She was relieved to find it empty. Still, she decided she'd better go into a stall for further privacy. Once she was safely locked inside she sat down and pulled her phone out, her heart beating hard in her chest as she opened her text.

_I'm sorry I blew u off last night. I had to clear my head._

She felt her heart lighten. She had been deeply hurt when he'd called the whole thing off. She'd been really excited about it, though it was admittedly better that they hadn't gotten together. She was certain she wouldn't have been able to control herself if they'd met. She quickly typed her response.

_It's ok. Probably for the best anyway. Hey, you should delete our texts. Kyle is noticing._

She felt a little nauseous as she hit the send button, dreading the wait for his response. It always felt like an eternity between texts. She wished they could just talk face to face. As she ruminated in her frustration, she felt her phone buzz once more.

_I will delete, I promise. I thought it was 4 the best 2. That's why I did it. The thing is we've been dancing around this thing 2 long now, Wendy. I wanted 2 tell u 2 ur face but I am brave enough right now. I fucking care about u. I have real feelings 4 u and we are either going 2 have 2 do this or not. You can take some time 2 think, but I can't keep doing this. It hurts._

Wendy felt like the floor was falling out from beneath her. Jesus. He'd said it. He'd actually said it. He was forcing her hand. Fuck. This was not a decision she was ready to make. Fuck, fuck, fuck! She felt like she wanted to vomit.

_I have to think. I'm sorry. I don't have an answer for you right now. I have feelings for you too. I just don't know if I can go through with it. I love Stan but when I think of you I feel like I'm losing my mind. I've never wanted anyone so much._

As she hit the send button, she heard the bathroom door flinging open. She jumped in response, timidly looking under the bottom of the stall as she heard more commotion by the door. It looked like Craig's shoes, but what would he be doing in the girl's bathroom?

"Craig…?" she asked cautiously.

"Yeah, it's me."

She pushed the door of the stall open, realizing he'd wedged the trashcan up against the door. He wasn't going to let anyone else in. What the hell was he doing?

"I'm sorry," he insisted as he approached her, knowing she was confused, "I just didn't think it was right to tell you over a text. You deserve to hear it from me for real," he explained, grabbing her hands and holding them to his chest.

"What is it?" she asked. He'd already told her he cared about her. She wasn't sure if it was a relief or not that it wasn't just sex he was after.

"Wendy," he started, suddenly realizing he was about to be horribly vulnerable, "Wendy, I love you."

Her eyes widened as she bit her lower lip. She was terrified. He felt a pang of empathy as he pulled her close, touching his hand to her face gently.

"It's okay, I don't expect anything from you. I just needed you to know," he admitted.

"I know," she whispered as she touched his chin, causing him to lift his eyes to hers.

"I love you, too," she admitted, unsure as to how in the hell it had happened. She was, indeed, in love with two different people; two brothers. She was really deep in shit now.

Craig breathed in sharply, his hands shaking.

"Fuck," he let out a sigh, "fuck this isn't fair," he complained, allowing a frustrated tear to run down his face.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It just happened."

She nodded before letting go of his hand.

"Wait," he said, startling her a bit. He realized he should lower his voice, "wait…" he whispered as he touched the back of her head, pulling her face close.

"No, not while I'm with Stan," she objected, pulling back slightly.

His eyes looked so goddamn sad, it broke her heart.

"Please…please just let me kiss you this once. I won't ask you again. I just…" he couldn't finish his thought.

She could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she teetered on the edge of blowing up her life. Her breath quickened as she allowed him to pull her face to his, pressing his lips against hers gently. She felt her stomach aching as he slid his tongue into her mouth. She felt her face running hot as she returned the favor, the two of them breathing heavy as they kissed with increasing desire. She felt so out of control as he lifted her up and pushed her back up against the nearest wall, kissing her with urgency. She grabbed fistfuls of his hair, whimpering as she continued to kiss him, pressing her body closer into his. She wanted him. She wanted him so fucking bad. As she reveled in her desire and frustration a sob escaped her lips, causing Craig to stop. She was crying.

"Oh, no…no, no…I'm sorry," he whispered as he wiped the tears from her cheeks.

"It's okay," she insisted, allowing him to rub her cheek with his thumb.

He gently set her back onto the ground, watching as she wiped the tears from her face and settled down.

"Call me tonight," was all she could manage before walking quickly away from him, yanking the trashcan away from the door and exiting the restroom. Craig stood there, panting and doing his best to ignore the frustration in his unsatisfied body. Fuck. What a mess.


	13. Let's Be Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig and Stan connect.

Wendy sat quietly atop her bed with her knees pulled into her chest. Her cheeks had mascara tinted tear streams, her long black hair pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head. She pressed her hand to her forehead, unable to stop herself from replaying it over and over in her head. She'd done it; she'd cheated on Stan…maybe not _all_ the way, but that kiss was intense. After all of these years of a relationship that had felt like it would be forever, she was doubting it all. Her stomach ached as the guilt settled mercilessly upon her, her mind in a state of anxious indecision. Who did she want? Stan? Or Craig? The answer felt elusive and threatening, and every time her mind drew near it, the impulse to vomit got in the way. She just wasn't ready to face the truth.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself as she dropped her arm down and looked out her bedroom window. It was dark and the moon was shining brilliantly, lighting up what the darkness wanted to conceal. As she gazed at it, she couldn't help but wonder how the evening had gone with the Marsh's. Craig had disappeared and left them all riddled with desperate worry; how had he been received? Stan didn't appear to be angry with him anymore; not once he'd seen how bad he looked in the cafeteria. Maybe the family handled him the same?

Selfishly, she almost hoped they didn't. In a way, it would be easier for her if the Marsh's grew tired of his antics. Then he wouldn't feel any bond with them and it wouldn't matter so much, this thing they were doing. Maybe they could run away together? She figured that's what they would have to do if they were ever found out, anyway.

Her stomach turned again. Christ. She didn't want to be responsible for him losing another shot at a family. He'd already lost one; he was enormously lucky to even have a second option out there. Most kids in his position would wind up entirely on their own. Jesus; she couldn't allow herself to get in the way of this opportunity. Not if she really loved him.

…and love him she did.

…

Craig sat listlessly in his new room. The Marsh's had put it together for him the day he'd gone missing, which made him feel even shittier about his disappearance. They were all really kind about it, though. Sharon had simply given him a hug, told him she was glad he was okay, and given him something to eat. It certainly hadn't been what he'd expected to come home to, that was for sure.

Randy had been really calm about it, too. When he got home the whole family sat down together for a really delicious, hot meal and talked about their days. Craig hadn't divulged a whole lot, but he did give them some information about some things going on at school; he'd been assigned an essay, had an okay lunch time, etcetera, etcetera. Even though he was being a little false and was definitely unwilling to share much, he did enjoy listening to the rest of them. They were close, and it was nice. He felt some solace in the normalcy of their lives in the midst of his own complicated existence.

After dinner Randy and Sharon did pull him aside and speak privately with him. Randy gently explained that they knew he'd ditched class, had spoken to his grandma, and that everyone was in agreement that he needed to be more informative about where he was and what he was doing; oh, and if he ditched class again there'd be consequences. They weren't angry, just trying to establish some boundaries for him, which he actually kind of appreciated. He apologized to them both for any worry he put them through and they assured him it was alright. He was pretty sure they were handling him cautiously because the funeral was tomorrow. Either way, it wasn't too bad.

He breathed a sigh of relief and made his way up to his room afterward, texting back and forth with Wendy. Neither of them mentioned the kiss they'd shared in the bathroom that morning; they were just arranging for a time that they could see each other alone, deciding that Sunday would likely be their best opportunity. They concocted a cover story for themselves and it was settled. They didn't speak any further and he quickly deleted her texts afterward, remembering what she'd said about Kyle.

He let out a sigh as he tossed his phone aside, rolling his computer chair over by the window. He cracked it as quietly as he could, not wanting to be too loud. He had heard the Marsh's going to their room's an hour or so prior and he didn't want to bother anyone. Once he'd opened it enough, he pulled out his cigarettes and lit one up. He held it close to the window, allowing the gentle night breeze to carry it away.

He closed his eyes as he inhaled the much needed nicotine, considering his predicament. What a fantastically fucked up and stressful situation he'd landed himself into. Here he was, sitting in this amazing, warm, furnished, freshly painted, brand new room that the Marsh's had gone out of their way to put together for him and all he could think about was the temptation of running away with his brother's girl.

"Damn it, Tucker," he muttered to himself as he rolled his eyes and took another hit, looking out at the sky.

The moon was especially bright, commanding his attention. He smiled softly, feeling an odd sense of calm as he stared at it. He wasn't sure why, but in that moment, he felt okay. Maybe the choices ahead of him weren't so clear, but at least he could try and enjoy this moment of rare, quiet peace.

...

Stan could smell the smoke drifting in from Craig's room, which made him roll his eyes. He was such a jackass. First he disappears for damn near 24 hours, then he's smoking in the nice, new room his parents had set up for him. Ugh! What a dick.

He paused for a moment to stare at the blank notebook he had in his lap. He needed to write a paper about a life changing experience, but he had no idea what to say. He didn't want to write about it; he was fucking in it. It wasn't because he was embarrassed about it though. It was mostly because he wasn't exactly sure what any of it meant yet. In all honesty, he felt more confusion and frustration than he'd ever felt. Not to mention he couldn't even talk about it with Wendy. She'd been growing more and more distant; he couldn't get her to talk about what was going on with her, let alone vent his own shit. He was starting to think things might be getting worse with her parents. They'd been having problems for a few years now. It wouldn't surprise him in the least if things were escalating at home. She wasn't one to talk about it, if that's what it was. As surprising as it may have been to those who didn't know her, Wendy preferred to keep her affairs private. It was something he both admired and worried about with her.

"Ugh," he whined to himself as he tossed his notebook aside in resignation. He wasn't ready to write about this stuff yet. He wasn't ready to even admit to himself that, despite it all, he kind of cared about Craig and his wellbeing.

"Goddamnit," he growled under his breath as he shot up, more mad at himself than anything, and opened his door.

He felt his pulse quicken as he approached Craig's room, not sure if he should knock. Clearly he was in there smoking, so he didn't need to worry he was interrupting anything private.

"Fuck it," he mumbled as he grabbed the doorknob and stepped inside. He felt incredibly uncertain and nervous as their eyes met, a confused, yet not unwelcome look upon Craig's face.

"Hey, dude," he said awkwardly, staring at Stan.

"Hey," Stan replied, "uh…is it alright if I come in?"

Craig nodded, taking a drag from his cigarette and averting his eyes. Just like that, his peaceful moment with the moon was gone.

"So, uh, what's up, Stan?" he asked, lifting one of his knees to his chest and wrapping his free arm around it. His light blue eyes were piercing as Stan cautiously walked over to his bad and sat down on it.

"No much. I guess I'm just a little bored," he admitted. There was some truth to that.

"Oh," was all Craig could manage, his face looking slightly exasperated. Stan felt a little rejected.

"I mean, unless you want to be alone. I just kind of figured since we _are_ brothers and all, well…maybe we could, like, hangout or something?"

Craig was hit in rapid succession with a series of various emotions. First, he felt eager. Stan actually _wanted_ to hang out with him? This was his first sign of acceptance and, deep down, he'd been yearning for it. However, this realization resulted in an instant dose of guilt. Here he was, receiving the acceptance he'd been reaching for and he had to accept the fact that it had already started to get physical with Wendy. Shame. An overwhelming wave of shame crashed over him, nearly choking him as it faded into self-loathing and settled upon his skin like salt. Once the immediate, urgent emotions receded he was surprised to feel another moment of peace and openness. Funny. That's the way it was in life sometimes, though. Wave after wave of intolerable and intense emotions, followed by the bubbling foam of acceptance, left to settle deep into the parched and porous sand.

He couldn't help but smirk as he looked toward his brother.

"Yeah, okay. I guess we should," he said before killing off his cigarette. He lifted his pant leg and put it out, though it was the opposite ankle. He was always careful not to aggravate the wounds to the point of infection.

"Jesus, what're you doing that for?" Stan asked, taken aback by his unusual actions.

"Huh?" Craig mumbled as he looked up. He'd forgotten that wasn't exactly normal behavior. People don't typically put their cigarettes out on their own flesh. He cleared his throat.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I dunno. I just do it sometimes. It's not bad. It doesn't hurt really."

Stan eyed him for a moment, supposing it was probably therapeutic in whatever way people who cut themselves found relief. He wanted to tell him that was bullshit and he shouldn't be doing it to himself, but he thought better of himself. That would only alienate Craig. He didn't respond well to lectures on morality or rightness, let alone if those lectures were to come from the mouth of Stan Marsh.

"Well…I guess I'll get you an ashtray for Christmas," was all he could manage.

Craig let out a laugh, surprising Stan. He had meant to be funny, he just didn't think it would be received with such warmth. He felt a little more comfortable at the sound of Craig's laugh. Maybe they could actually be friends. He offered a smile as he tried to figure him out.

"So, what did you wanna do then?" Craig asked, realizing he didn't want to just sit there staring at each other. It was weird, even if they were brothers.

"Oh, uh, well…I dunno. What do you usually do for fun?" Stan asked, realizing he was in entirely unfamiliar territory. What the hell did someone like Craig Tucker do with their time?

"I generally smoke a lot of weed and cigarettes, screw around on the Internet, and I occasionally jerk off so I can go sleep…but I'm thinking that's not really something I want to do with you," he was joking. Well, half-way at least. That _was_ usually how he spent his time.

Stan let out a surprised laugh. That sounded about right.

"What do you usually do?" Craig asked, realizing he didn't have a clue what someone like Stan Marsh did to pass the days.

"Well," he started, raising his eyebrows as he realized how different they were, "I usually do all of my homework, then I talk to Wendy for a while. Sometimes I play video games with Kyle, I guess. Oh, and sometimes I jerk off and surf the web, too," he added jokingly.

Craig nodded, trying to ignore the mention of Wendy's name. He didn't want to think about any of that right now. All he wanted to do was try and feed the possible connection here with Stan.

"Well, what the hell should we do then?" Craig asked, understanding they lived in two very different worlds.

"How about a compromise?" Stan suggested, realizing that they were going to have to try and understand each other if they were ever going to get anywhere.

Craig raised his eyebrows and stared at him, giving him his attention.

"We could smoke some weed, like you like to do, and play some video games, like I like to do?"

"What? Really? You would smoke with me? Aren't you kind of a square?" he asked, a little uncertain of the whole thing. Stan wouldn't. No way.

Stan shrugged, a little uncomfortable, "well…maybe. I dunno. I could try it."

"Nah, dude. Weed isn't your thing," he responded, understanding in his voice. Stan wasn't trying to impress him. He was trying to connect.

Stan looked around awkwardly, insecurity plain on his face. Craig needed to spit something out fast.

"Look," he started, "let's not force this. We don't need to be fake or step out of our comfort zones or anything like that. Let's just be real, okay?"

Stan nodded, visibly relaxing. Craig smiled at him, "I like video games, and I play them better when I'm sober anyway. Let's just do that."

Stan smiled, looking a little excited about the whole thing. Craig felt himself getting a little caught up in the moment.

"Alright, cool. Let's go to my room," Stan offered.

"Sweet, let's go."

And so began the first of many nights the two brothers would spend together, learning how to function as the individuals they were inside of the bonds of the family they wanted to be.


	14. I'm Sure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig faces his family at the funeral. Things escalate with Wendy.

Craig was trying his best to breathe in and out slow and big. His heart was racing and his stomach was sick. It was time. Time to say goodbye. Fuck. He was _not_ ready for this. His blue eyes were telling, pain and fear and nerves plain as day. He looked into the mirror, smoothing his hair over to the side with some product Sharon had given him. They'd given him some of Randy's old button ups and Sharon had washed his jeans for him and underwear for him. He still hadn't had the nerve to go in and get his clothes, something Randy had taken note of. He'd decided he would go over there and get Craig's things for him when the funeral was over.

"Hey," Randy's calm voice soothed as he placed his hand on Craig's shoulder. He turned to look at him, his eyes wide with fright, "we're all here for you. You're not in this alone."

Craig blinked at him and nodded. Randy let out a troubled sigh as he put his hand to the back of his son's head and pulled him close, wrapping him in a hug. Craig allowed it, though he was surprised by it. He hadn't expected such a thing, nor would he normally have returned the sentiment. However, this day was a day unlike any other. His hands were trembling as he placed them awkwardly around Randy, flattening them on his back. He had to admit, it was comforting to be held by him; for the briefest of moments, it actually felt like he was his dad. It made him want to cry.

He squeezed Randy tighter at the thought. It felt good, but it would've been better if had been Thomas; that was the person he would always consider his father.

"Oh, sorry…" Sharon's voice interrupted as she walked up behind them, unaware that they'd been having a moment.

"No, it's okay," Craig insisted as he separated and sniffled, wiping his watering eyes.

She smiled at him, walking up and fixing his hair for him. He was quiet as she stood back and looked him over. He looked nice in Randy's button up, and much better since they'd convinced him to shower and let her wash his clothes.

"There," she said quietly before placing her hands on his shoulders and squeezing.

It was time for them to get going.

…

Wendy was sitting anxiously on the church's front steps, unable to enter it on her own. There were quite a few people already there, which sort of surprised her. How was it that Craig was so un-liked but his family so beloved? What had caused him to turn out the way he had? And why, most importantly, was she falling for him so hard? He wasn't even any good for her, really. Stan was a better fit. In her head she knew that. However, her heart was an entirely different affair.

"Hey," a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts, catching her attention.

"Oh, hi," she said as she gratefully laid eyes on Bebe.

Bebe gave her a half-smile as she sat down on the stairs beside her, a calm quiet settling between them. It was never awkward for them. They'd been friends for so long, sometimes the silence was a comfort.

"I'm sorry we haven't talked much the last few days," Wendy suddenly apologized, realizing it had been a strange week.

"Awe, it's alright. I've been really busy with Eric. You know, I'm actually not having a bad time with him. Who would've thought, huh?"

It was a lie. Actually, things had been pretty bad between the two of them. He was controlling and domineering. That and she was in love with Craig and it hurt, despite the distraction Cartman offered. She was a little jealous that Wendy got to see him so much, actually. Her proximity to Stan afforded her that opportunity. He'd always been really respectful of Wendy, too. Something he didn't extend too often to anyone, let alone the other girls at school. She didn't really understand it.

"Really? Wow. That's crazy," Wendy mused, entirely unaware of her friend's white lie. Had she not been so caught up in her own drama she may have recognized it.

"Yeah," Bebe answered softly, her voice trailing off. She wished Wendy would notice she wasn't okay, but she could see she wasn't aware of it. She decided to shift the conversation.

"So…what have you been doing, anyway?"

Wendy scratched her head, not really wanting to tell Bebe much. She was aware that the breakup was fresh and had absolutely no intention of telling her about all of the things she and Craig had gotten up to; really what they'd been at since a few weeks ahead of their split. She felt the ever familiar pang of guilt in her stomach at the thought. She was really doing everyone pretty dirty around her.

"Not too much," she responded, unable to make eye contact. Bebe shifted a little; she'd expected more than that. It saddened her; she could feel a distance growing between the two of them and she had no clue why it was happening. Had she done something wrong? She let out a troubled sigh before placing her hand on Wendy's knee and standing up.

"Well…I guess I'll see you later, then…" she said, disappointment clinging to her words.

"Yeah, see you later…" Wendy replied, offering her a saddened smile. Bebe returned the sentiment and turned to head into the church, ruminating on her confusion and frustration with whatever was happening between her and Wendy.

Wendy, on the other hand, found herself quickly fixated on the next uncomfortable interaction as Randy Marsh's car parked along the street in front of her. She watched, her stomach tied up in knots, as the entire family emerged from the car. Her eyes landed on Craig. He looked really nice, despite the horrible occasion. She felt her pulse quicken as the family approached, Craig's fearful blue eyes meeting her own. She quickly averted her eyes to Stan, offering him a smile and grabbing his hand.

"Hi," she said abruptly, doing her best to keep her attention on Stan.

"Hey," he replied, relieved to see her. It felt like forever to him since they'd last spoken. He felt entirely iced out by her the entire week. He wanted to ask her what was going on, but now clearly wasn't the time, so he stuffed his emotions down for the time being. He felt a little comforted as she gave him a quick kiss and briefly rubbed his shoulder. He smiled at her and locked arms before they turned their attention back to everyone else.

"Hello," she said gently, looking over the Marsh's.

"Hello, dear," Sharon said as she gave Wendy a quick half-hug, "we've missed you at the house," she added, remembering what Mr. Schultz had said just a few days earlier.

"I've missed you, too," was all she could manage, not bothering to explain herself. She noticed Craig staring at the doors of the church behind her. Everyone waited, uncertain if he was ready to go inside.

He swallowed hard, realizing everyone was waiting on him. He quietly stepped forward, walking up to the church doors. He stood there, hesitant. He felt sick as he willed himself to open them up. Randy stepped up first, walking up beside him and placing his hand on his shoulder.

"Are you going to be able to do this?"

Craig looked toward him, his eyes wide with fright.

"I have to," he said softly, his eyes quietly pleading for help.

Randy nodded and squeezed his shoulder, "come on. We're here for you."

Craig lowered his eyes and allowed Randy to open the doors and lead him in. The family followed suit. As they walked slowly up the hall he spotted the three coffins, his eyes fixated on them. He felt his heart racing as they approached the front of the room, his grandmother waiting up front to receive them. It almost felt like an out-of-body experience as she embraced him and started to explain that the caskets were closed aside from his sister, Tricia's. Her body was the only one in good enough condition, apparently. A few townspeople were up on the stage, looking down at her. Craig stared, unsure if he would go and look or not.

"Do you want to see her?" Grandma Tucker asked gently, catching his attention.

"Do you?" he asked.

A tear fell from one of her eyes, which he instinctively reached out and wiped away for her.

"I think I would like to, yes."

Craig nodded, holding out his arm for her. He would take her; he could do this. As he and his grandmother approached the stage the Marsh's and Wendy looked on. The people already looking at her quickly realized the remaining family members wanted to see her and cleared the stage. It felt almost like slow motion as Craig walked his grandma up to her casket, the two of them stopping beside her and peering in. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and held her close, feeling like he might fall. There she was. It was her, but it also wasn't. He felt as though he were in a daze as he reached out and brushed her lifeless cheek with the backs of his fingertips. She was so cold.

He felt his grandmother's shoulders trembling as she started to cry. It was quiet, but obvious. He turned away from his sister and held her close, his eyes fixating on Randy as he let his grandma cry into his shoulder for a moment. He felt like he could scream, but he didn't. He just stared at Randy, his eyes begging for something to make this easier. Randy cleared his throat and went up to the stage to relieve Craig of his grandma. She sobbed quietly as he led her off of the stage, Craig quietly following behind. They filed over to the front row of seats, reserved for family. Craig stood around, realizing more people were filing in. They were going to start approaching them and saying how sorry they were. He felt entirely disconnected from his body as they did so, but he managed to interact and hug people, thanking them for coming and doing all of the things one was expected to do at a funeral.

Eventually, the priest went up to the stage and asked everyone to sit down and be quiet. It was time. Craig sat between his grandmother and Randy, wishing he could sit beside Wendy. He'd have given anything to be able to lean into her in that moment. Instead, he sat face forward, bracing himself for the service. The priest shared some Bible verses and shared little anecdotes about the family, none of which Craig could hold onto. He felt like his ears were ringing; he felt off balance. He felt his stomach drop as the priest dimmed the lights and started a little presentation his grandmother had put together up on the small TV screens near the stage. It was pictures and snippets of home videos put together with some sad songs. Craig sucked in some air as he watched, memories washing over him. He felt especially sick as he saw a video of him and his mom; she was carrying him, he must've been around three, kissing his cheeks and making him laugh.

"Oh…" he suddenly let out a cry, slapping his hand over his mouth. His grandmother, Wendy and the Marsh's all looked at him, surprised by the sudden outburst. He looked at Randy, his hand still over his mouth as his grandmother started to rub his back. Before he could stop himself another sob escaped his muffled mouth. He shut his eyes hard as the tears started to fall.

"I can't do this…" he whispered as he took his hand away from his mouth, leaning forward and staring at Randy, tears sliding down his horrified face. He was starting to hyperventilate, clutching his stomach and leaning forward, "oh my God…I can't do this…" tears were flowing freely down his face.

"Okay, okay…" Randy said quietly, a little panicked.

As Craig hyperventilated and leaned forward Clyde, who had been silently sitting across the aisle, abruptly stood up and walked over to him. Craig looked up and let out an uncontrollable wail at the sight of his best friend.

"Clyde…Clyde, I can't do this…" he whimpered a little louder, "I can't do this…this can't be happening…they can't all be dead…this isn't…" he let out another involuntary sob, "…this isn't real. This is a goddamn nightmare…"

He suddenly dropped down from his chair onto his knees, sobbing uncontrollably. He was still clutching his stomach, shoving his hand over his mouth in an attempt to stop this horribly public breakdown. Clyde dropped down to his knees and grabbed him, pulling him close and letting him cry hysterically. The priest had made his way down to them; it wasn't unexpected for a family member to cry like this for a funeral of this nature.

"Should we take him outside?" Randy asked, entirely flustered. He had no idea what to do.

"Let him cry…it's okay," the priest assured.

Clyde held him closer as he buried his face into him, trying to stifle his sobs with his friend's body. His grandma was also kneeling down beside him, rubbing his back, crying quietly beside him, too.

"Craig, honey…it's okay. It's okay…let it out…" she cooed at him.

He continued to sob, gasping in between, "no…no…take me outside, please…"

He had Clyde's shirt tight in his fists, his face red and covered in tears, "please…I want…to go outside…" he gasped, still sobbing hard.

Clyde hoisted him up, nodding toward the rest of the family as he led him out of the building in shambles. Randy started to stand up to follow, but Stan grabbed his arm.

"Dad…give them a couple of minutes. We'll go out in a bit," he insisted. As much as he wanted to help, too, he needed someone he was already close with out there. It had to have been hard enough that he'd cried like that in front of the whole town; he knew that was going to be a blow to Craig's pride. He needed to let it out with someone he could trust. Randy nodded, understanding washing over his face. They sat quietly as the priest moved the service along, a deeply sympathetic look on his face. Wendy felt like her heart was going to beat right out of her chest; she wanted so badly to console him.

Outside Craig sat against the wall near the rear entry of the church. It was secluded back there, and he felt much better crying outside with only Clyde around. He held his legs up to his chest, crying into his knees uncontrollably as Clyde sat beside him, his arm around his shoulders. They sat this way for a fairly long time before Craig was able to calm himself down. He had the hiccups once he did. Clyde eyed him sympathetically. It had happened; it had finally happened. Craig had acted like an actual human being with appropriate feelings. Despite how sad he felt for him, he also knew it was likely the healthiest thing he'd done since it had all gone down. He was glad that he'd decided to come to the funeral. When it was all said and done, after all of the shit that had happened between them, he knew it was the right thing to do. They'd been through too much for him not to be there. They'd been through too much for their friendship to be over. Though neither of them said as much, they both knew that they were okay from that moment on. They were best friends; nothing was going to change that.

The two of them sat, quietly understanding. Clyde figured he wouldn't say anything unless Craig did. He just wanted to be there for him.

"Seeing my mom like that…" he said quietly as he wiped under his eyes, "…fuck. I miss her. I miss my mom."

Clyde nodded.

"I miss my sister and my dad. I still can't believe this is happening. It doesn't seem real…you know?"

Clyde nodded again, unsure what he could say. Craig sniffed as he pulled out his cigarettes again. Clyde didn't say anything as he lit up and smoked. A few more minutes went by before he looked at Clyde.

"I'm in love with Wendy," he admitted, a helpless look on his face.

Clyde shifted uncomfortably, "Craig…you know that's not good."

He nodded, continuing to smoke, "yeah. Believe me. I know."

"Are you sure it's love and not lust?" Clyde asked, trying to get a better sense of the situation.

He nodded quietly, "it's love. We haven't done anything. Well…I kissed her yesterday. That's it. That's all that's happened."

Clyde looked him over sympathetically. It wasn't like the thing that happened between them. Craig was being unusually open right now, he could tell.

"Well, I guess at least it's your heart getting you into some shit this time," he somewhat joked.

Craig let out a laugh, "yeah. I guess. I don't think it will change the outcome, though."

Clyde nodded, "it won't end well."

Craig started bouncing his legs nervously as he considered the truth of that statement.

"You and her, though. You guys are the only people that feel right to me right now," he admitted, staring ahead of him.

"I'm here," Clyde said simply.

Craig nodded and quietly smoked. They didn't say anymore, ten minutes or so passing before they heard the door beside them opening. They both looked up as the Marsh's, his grandmother, and Wendy all filed outside. Clyde avoided Wendy's eyes, a little uncomfortable with the information he now had.

"I'm sorry, Gramma," he said as he stood up and hugged her. She patted his back reassuringly.

"No, don't be. It's okay. I know how you feel."

He let her go and she looked him over. She wanted to break the tension.

"You smell like smoke. Hand them over," she said as she held out her hand.

He smiled at her, pulling the pack from his pocket and dropping it into her palm. She pocketed them and then affectionately pinched his cheek, "they are preparing the burial. Do you think you can go?"

He folded his arms across his chest, "yeah. I'm okay now. I'll go."

"Alright then," she said as she locked her arm with his.

They all quietly started walking together. The family was to be buried at a cemetery just beside the church, so they only had to go around the building. They made their way over to the three large holes in the ground. Only a small group of people had decided to stick around for the burial. Craig quietly stood there with his grandma. Clyde stood close on the other side of him, the Marsh's and Wendy nearby, too. He was a little surprised to see Kenny, Kyle, Cartman and even Bebe in addition to the friends he had expected, Tweek and Token. He offered them all a sad smile to show that he appreciated them being there. Kyle, Kenny, Bebe, Tweek and Token returned the sentiment; Eric looked to the ground and cleared his throat. As they waited for the burial to start Craig continued to look everyone over.

Randy and Sharon were hanging onto each other, both of them glancing at Craig every so often. He caught their eyes a few times, though he wasn't sure what kind of expression he'd given them. Even Shelley met his eyes and smiled softly toward him. It was very overwhelming. He shifted his gaze toward Stan, offering him an appreciative smile. Stan nodded at him reassuringly. As some staff carried over the coffins he locked his eyes with Wendy; he didn't want to look at his departed family. They stared at each other for a few seconds too long before he broke it, averting his eyes to the ground. He kept his eyes focused there as the priest said a few more words and they lowered in the bodies. They were each given roses to toss down into the graves if they wanted. Everyone did, even Craig, though he felt a little detached again. Once it was all over, they were to make their way over to his grandma's house for snacks and sympathies, he supposed. He never understood why there was a gathering after a funeral. Wasn't the family put through enough as it was?

Nonetheless, he rode over with the Marsh's in a quiet daze. Randy and Sharon chatted a little bit up front about some financial stuff. Shelley was all involved in her phone as Stan sat in the middle, fiddling with his hands. Craig wished he had something to say to him, but he didn't. Once they'd arrived at his grandmother's and Randy killed the engine, Craig cleared his throat and spoke up.

"Hey…"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at him, even grouchy old Shelley.

"…Thank you guys for being there today. It meant a lot."

They all kind of spat out 'of courses' and 'your welcomes'. He smiled, glad that he'd decided to say something to them. Randy turned around and squeezed his arm affectionately. Stan patted his back casually. Craig's face flushed, a little embarrassed about how corny it seemed, but his heart felt a little lighter as he they all filed out of the car and headed into his grandma's house. The time they spent there felt pretty similar to the beginning of the funeral. People came in and out, ate, talked, and expressed their sympathies. Much to Craig's distaste, people kept commenting on how sad it had been to see him cry. He was thoroughly embarrassed and wished to Christ he hadn't have broken down like that in front of so many people.

He tried to be gracious with folks anyway, even if they were making him uncomfortable. He appreciated that people cared enough to come and say their goodbyes. He hadn't realized how loved by the community his family had been. He heard a lot of stories throughout the day about each of his family members, and that part he had found somewhat enjoyable. It felt good, in a small way, to remember some good things; times when life was simpler. By the time it all wound down he was exhausted. He sat down on his grandma's loveseat and inadvertently fell asleep. It was a heavy, consuming nap, and when he awoke to a quiet house he was surprised. How much time had passed?

He blinked awkwardly, looking around. He noticed someone had put a blanket on him as he stretched himself out, yawning and standing from the couch. He walked into the kitchen, surprised to see Wendy and his Grandma sitting at the dinner table together with cups of tea.

"Oh, Craig! Did we wake you?" she said sweetly.

"No. I'm just awake…what time is it? When did everyone leave?" he asked, realizing no one else was around anymore.

"Oh, it's about seven. I asked the Marsh's to let you sleep; I figured you could stay here tonight. Your friend Wendy, here, offered to stay and help me clean up. What a sweet girl she is!"

Wendy's face flushed. Grandma Tucker had absolutely no idea Wendy was Stan's girlfriend. She remembered her name and assumed she was someone Craig was interested in. The whole situation went right over her head. Craig could tell as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"Well…I'm quite tired, dears. I think I'm going to head on up to bed. Craig…behave yourself. This here is a lovely young lady, you treat her nicely," she insisted as she stood up and placed her tea cup into the sink. Wendy's face reddened even more and he smiled at her, amused.

"I'll see you tomorrow, lovie," she said as she kissed Craig on the cheek.

"G'night Gramma," he said as he watched her disappear up the stairs.

He looked towards Wendy and smiled affectionately at her.

"Thanks for helping my Gramma," he said as he sat down across from her.

"Sure. I figured you guys shouldn't have to clean up after so many people alone."

He sat quietly, looking at her. It almost felt normal for a moment; his grandma had no clue who she was to him. She just thought she was a girl he had thing for and it was as simple as that. Under the circumstances, he almost felt like he could convince himself that it were true. He could tell she was feeling the same.

"Craig," she said quietly, her large eyes searching him over, "can…can we…" she hesitated.

He stood up and reached for her hand. She allowed him to silently lead her through the living room into a small bedroom that came off of it. Inside there was a queen sized bed, a nightstand, and a television. There were a few knickknacks strewn around. She wandered in as he quietly shut the door behind him. He stood there watching her as she took in the room. Eventually she turned toward him, fear and anticipation in her eyes as her pulse quickened. He hung back, wanting to take cues from her. It felt like this was going to happen, but he didn't want to push her.

She was wearing a pretty black dress with buttons going down the front. He watched quietly as she started to undo the buttons. He felt his pulse increase and his breathing growing shallow. She slid her shoulders out and the dress dropped to her feet. He felt like that was clear enough an invitation, so he slowly walked up to her, touching her face. He pressed his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes and leaned into him as he kissed her neck and slid off her bra. She turned her face and started to kiss him slowly. She slid off his shirt and they kissed more as he gently laid her down on the bed. He broke their kiss, staring down at her and admiring how perfect he thought she was.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he whispered.

"Yes," she replied breathily.

He leaned down and kissed her once more. It was much slower and far less urgent than the kiss they had shared in the bathroom. This time they both knew what they wanted. They tucked themselves into the blankets as they kissed affectionately and made love for the first time. It was sweet and loving and perfect. It was everything they had both hoped it would be. Once they were finished, they continued to kiss, snuggling up together affectionately. For the moment, under the false pretense of pure, innocent, uncomplicated love under his grandmother's unknowing roof, they both felt like everything would be alright.


	15. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendy realizes something really big has happened. Stan is growing more distressed over their relationship. Craig is feeling the guilt. Bebe is cheating on Cartman.

Wendy laid quietly in her bed. The ceiling fan above her whirring monotonously. Her parents were at work; she'd felt sick upon waking in the morning, so she'd asked them to let her stay home. She had no fever, but she'd vomited a handful of times. After an hour or so she'd eaten some dry toast and managed to keep it down, giving her some relief. She'd sat at the counter after she'd eaten, alone and pondering. When had she last had a period? She couldn't quite remember. She couldn't help but feel that it had been too long. After the thought had dawned on her she'd showered, dressed, and driven over to the pharmacy. She'd purchased two boxes of pregnancy tests with cash before driving home, all the while certain she knew what the results would be. It was that night. That first night at Grandma Tucker's house…it had been five or six weeks ago. They hadn't used protection; neither of them had planned on it happening. They'd just succumbed to their wants and needs. Every time since, and there had been plenty, they'd been more careful. Still, she knew it only took once.

Once she'd made it home she'd quickly run to the bathroom, peeing on two of the tests in succession. She'd paced around the bathroom, doing her best to avoid looking at them until the timer she'd set on her phone went off. When it did, she peered at them both in disbelief. She was, indeed, pregnant. She'd cried alone on the bathroom floor for several minutes before composing herself and lying down on the bed. So, now that's where she was; laying, staring, and worrying. What would she tell Craig? _How_ could she tell Stan? Her parents? Bebe? There were so many people who were going to either hate her or pity her for this. She shut her eyes, wishing everything about her life could be different. How had she gotten herself into this mess? Everything she'd done had been so unlike her. What to do? What to do, indeed.

…

Craig searched around the familiar room. Mr. Mackey was sitting at his desk with his hands folded neatly, much as he always did. They hadn't said much, though Craig had been in his office for several minutes. He'd chosen to spend his lunchtime there, but found himself unable to speak. Finally, Mr. Mackey let out a sigh and leaned forward.

"Craig, what's going on?"

Craig focused his eyes on the window, seeing familiar screwing around outside and having a good time. He was envious of the others. It was all so simple for them, it seemed. He looked for another moment before looking down at his hands. Shame. He felt so much fucking shame.

"This thing with Wendy…it's killing me."

Mr. Mackey nodded. Craig had told him a few weeks back that it had gotten physical, though he hadn't discussed it since. He had focused more on the things he was appreciative of in the sessions they'd had since the funeral. He was trying to get his life on track. His friendship with Clyde felt good again. He and Stan were getting along fine. He'd even managed to get on Shelley's good side. He had started to feel really close with Randy and he really adored Sharon. Everything seemed to be lining up well, other than the situation with Wendy. It did trouble Mr. Mackey that he never talked about his parents or his sister. It felt like, even though he was taking some real steps to improve his life and get on a good path, he was still stuffing a lot down. That just simply wouldn't work; feelings of grief can't be snuffed out like that.

"Are you two still sleeping together?"

He nodded, his shoulders pulled in. His posture was smaller and more vulnerable than Mr. Mackey had been accustomed to.

"How is that making you feel?" he urged.

"Sick, honestly," he said as he met his counselor's eyes, "I feel so ashamed. I'm able to fake it, you know? I'm able to laugh and talk shit with Stan like nothing's going on, but I know it is. It makes me want to puke sometimes. I've thought about calling it off, but…I can't. I just…I love her so goddamn much. I just can't help it. I know we need to do something. I know we either have to call it off or come out with it. There's no other way. Either way…my life is fucked up. I can't take this guilt…I feel like it's swallowing me whole. I put myself in this situation and it's fucking impossible. There's no way out."

"There are a few ways to resolve this issue, Craig," Mr. Mackey assured him, turning the page on his notepad.

Craig was bouncing his heels as he rested his forearms on his legs, staring at his counselor quizzically. Mr. Mackey stared at back him, waiting for him to work through it himself. Craig didn't want to budge. He waited him out. Finally, Mr. Mackey decided to at least nudge the conversation forward.

"Mmkay, well, you can't keep going forward as you are, right? You're obviously having trouble carrying that burden and maintaining your familial relations."

Craig nodded.

"Mmkay, so, that's out. Now, should you choose to end things with Wendy, there are two options. You can either end it and the two of you keep it a secret. Whatever she were to do from there, staying with Stan or not, is up to her. The other option, of course, is that you end it and be honest about what's happened. Tell Stan what you've done, apologize and hope for forgiveness."

Craig shook his head adamantly, "no. That's not an option. I love her. I can't end things with her. She's the one person I have that makes total sense to me."

Mr. Mackey leaned back into his chair and pressed his hands together, "mmkay. Then it seems there's really only one other option, wouldn't you say?"

Craig stared at him before dropping his head and running both of his hands through his hair. He sat up and leaned back into his chair, dropping his arms helplessly into his lap.

"I'm scared to tell him," he admitted.

"What do you think might happen?"

"Everyone will know. The Marsh's, I mean. They'd want me to leave. I wouldn't be a part of the family anymore."

"Do you really think they would all do that?"

He stared at his hands in his lap, picking at one of his nails as he considered the question.

"I think Randy would stay in touch with me."

"Would that be enough for you?"

He lifted his eyes, glancing back out the window. He felt envy once more as he watched his classmates goofing around outside.

"It might have to be," he relented.

Mr. Mackey observed him quietly. It seemed there wasn't much else to say.

…

Bebe laid quietly in Cartman's bed. She'd come over after school and they'd slept together, a thing they often did. Liane didn't really pay a whole hell of a lot of attention to what they got up to, so they didn't even really have to sneak round. She found herself staring at the ceiling, willing herself to feel less disgusted about this thing with her and Cartman. At first it had been fun, and she didn't mind that he was pudgy and obnoxious, but he was obsessive about her. He micromanaged her and made her feel like she was always doing something that upset him. He wasn't mean, but he just couldn't leave her be; it was like he knew she was going to leave him and just wanted to do everything he could to keep the inevitable at bay. She needed some room to breathe.

"Hey, do you want to go and get dinner somewhere tonight or something?" Eric asked. He had already re-dressed himself. He'd been screwing around on his computer while she lounged in his bed thinking.

"Oh, uh, that sounds so nice but I can't today. My mom said I have to come home earlier and help her get the house ready. My grandparents are coming to visit us," she lied.

"Oh, cool. Okay then…maybe after they leave, then?" he looked a little defeated. Bebe felt a twinge of regret about the lie. She also felt like he could see through it, and it made her stomach hurt a little.

"Okay, yeah, that sounds fine," she offered as she got out of the bed and slid back into her clothes.

He watched her quietly. He could tell she wasn't being honest with him, but he didn't have the motivation to argue about it. He'd known from the day they got involved he was just a rebound. Maybe he could've been more if he could've just gotten off of her back a little, but he couldn't help himself. He liked the validation of their relationship; it made him feel like he was deserving of having someone nice around. Sure, maybe she wasn't the person he'd marry and spend the rest of his life with, but the comfort of what they had was especially nice for him. He always felt so alone, no matter who he was with. Nobody liked him, and that was his own fault. He'd made certain of it over the years. It seemed easier that way at one point in time, but now that he was older he felt terribly hollow.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Bebe said as she leaned in and kissed him quickly on the mouth.

"Yeah, okay. See ya," he sighed as he felt his heart sinking. He had the nagging feeling she was spending her time with someone else, and he had himself entirely convinced it was that asshole Craig. He felt his jaw tighten at the thought of him touching her. What was her hang up with that jerk off anyway? Why couldn't she just move on? He'd been horrible to her and, despite the complete asshole Cartman knew he was capable of being, he was really trying hard to treat her better than that. The only thing he really couldn't hold back was his awful clinginess. Was that really so bad?

He let out a frustrated growl, slamming his fist on his computer desk. Why didn't anyone want him?

…

Bebe plopped into her car and sighed, relieved to be away from Cartman. Their relationship was so strenuous; it made her feel so sick sometimes. She was certain she'd develop an ulcer if she didn't come clean soon. Even so, she felt the knots in her stomach untying, butterflies taking flight as she started her car and drove. She was so pleased they'd started spending time together, entirely caught off guard that someone so kind and handsome would be interested in her. They'd been meeting in secret for several weeks now. She wasn't sure why, but she'd seemed to catch his eye that day at the funeral, and he'd started texting her at first. It wasn't long before they'd started meeting up.

She let out a breath as she fanned herself off with her hand. She felt hot as she approached Stark's pond, the place they passed away their time in secret together. It wasn't long before she arrived and parked her car beside his. She hastily got out and ran up to him, jumping up into his arms and wrapping her legs around him. He squeezed her thigh as the two of them started to kiss eagerly. It wasn't the way it had been with Craig, that was for sure, and that was something she was really starting to like about him. Once they'd settled down she smiled warmly at him.

"I've missed you, Clyde."

"I've missed you, too," he responded, smiling at her affectionately before locking her into another kiss. They made their way into his truck, spending the afternoon doing what lovers do in the backseat, the rest of the world melting way.

…

"I don't know, Kyle. I can't figure it out. She's been so withdrawn. I mean, if things are shitty at home why can't she tell me? I wouldn't judge her for it," Stan reasoned out loud, Kyle listening intently at his side.

They were in his room hanging out as they so often did. Kyle couldn't help but fret over the situation with Stan. He'd long been suspecting something was going on between her and Craig, but the thought was so unforgivable he didn't dare say it out loud. Especially not now that Stan and Craig had actually gotten close. Things had really shifted between the two of them after Craig's breakdown at the funeral. That was when it had become apparent he was just the same as anyone else; the persona he'd so carefully crafted had school had been bullshit. He was a human and he experienced everything that came along with that, and provided the knowledge that he wasn't an utter sociopath, the barriers between he and Stan had come tumbling down. Actually, they'd grown so close so fast that Kyle actually felt a little left behind. He wasn't exactly jealous; he understood to a degree. It was just different, and sometimes he wondered if his feelings about that were clouding his judgment when it came to his suspicions and he and Wendy.

"I don't know," Kyle shrugged, wishing he could make it better.

"I'm afraid I'm going to lose her," Stan admitted.

Kyle furrowed his brow, "do you think it's that bad?"

Stan opened his mouth like he was going to say something and hesitated. After a moment he shook his head, "I…shit…I don't know. Maybe not. It just feels like she's done with me. Maybe she's just gotten tired of me? I mean…neither of us has ever been with anyone else. Maybe that's a problem?"

Stan felt tears welling his eyes. He quickly shut them and wiped them. He wasn't going to cry about it.

"I'm sure it's not," Kyle said quickly. He just wanted to make Stan feel better.

"There's probably something going on that she just wants to keep private. You know how she is," he continued.

Stan looked down at the ground. It was plausible. She was intensely private about her home life.

"Yeah…maybe," he trailed off a bit, lifting his eyes.

Kyle eyed him for a moment before placing his hand on his shoulder.

"Look, you've been stressed out of your mind lately. Why don't we just forget about all the bullshit for one day and go do something?"

Stan offered him a smirk before letting out a sigh, "yeah…yeah, okay. You're right. Fuck all of this bullshit, man. Let's get outta here."

Kyle smiled at him as Stan slid into his jacket. Though he was happy to provide a distraction, he took note of the fact that something needed to be done. He had to try and figure out what was going on. It wasn't right thinking the things he did and ignoring them anymore. Stan was too caught up about it. Kyle Broflovski decided then that he would do what he could to get to the truth. He just hoped he wasn't right. A betrayal of that kind was beyond unbearable. It would tear him apart; hell, it would tear their entire family apart. His stomach dropped as he did his best to be optimistic, following Stan out of his room and off to wherever they might find something to distract them both from the disaster they felt laying in wait, just out of reach.


	16. I Don't Want to Share

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan takes Wendy home because she feels sick. Craig asks Clyde what he should do about his predicament. Kyle and Cartman are hanging out more, leading to some interesting information being shared.

Wendy hovered over the toilet, the acidic taste of vomit in her mouth. She'd forced herself to go to school since she'd discovered what was wrong the day before, but she'd been unable to go into the lunchroom to hang out while the boys passed around their homework. She'd ran straight to the restroom to heave up the dry toast she'd had for breakfast. She breathed heavily as she tried to recover from it, putting her hand to her forehead in exasperation. How could she conceal this thing if she was feeling this awful? What the hell was she going to do? She couldn't help but let a few more tears fall as she wallowed in the fear she was feeling. As she heard the bathroom door open she placed her trembling hand over her mouth. She didn't want to draw attention to herself. A few moments passed as she composed herself, wiping the tears from her eyes carefully, before she exited the stall and went to wash her hands; she also dug a stick of gum out of her mouth and popped it in, not wanting Stan to know she'd thrown up.

She looked herself over in the mirror for a moment before drawing in a deep breath. Okay. Time to join the boys. She quickly turned away from the mirror and made her way into the lunch room. As she entered, she was immediately struck at how strongly everything smelled to her. She'd heard that sort of thing happened during pregnancy, but it was surreal to experience it. She wished she could tone down her senses as she made her way over to the table with her friends. Stan was seated between Kyle and Craig; Bebe, Cartman and Kenny were across from them. She made up her mind she would sit between Kyle and Stan, but as her boyfriend met her eyes he slid over, making room for her beside Craig. She felt like she wanted to scream as she quietly had a seat between them, her stomach in knots.

Stan smiled at her and kissed her cheek, pulling her in close. She rested her head on his shoulder, genuinely enjoying the familiar comfort of his body against hers. She felt so sick and exhausted; she just wanted to go to sleep. Craig was careful not to look at her, focusing on his phone. He knew that so long as things were the way they were she would be physical with Stan. He didn't like it, but he understood it for what it was. Still, seeing her cuddle up with him was something he could definitely live without.

"Are you alright?" Stan asked her quietly. The others at the table were bullshitting pretty loud, but Craig was quietly listening as he stared at his phone.

"Yeah. I just am not feeling well," she admitted.

Stan affectionately moved some of her long, black hair away from her shoulder and then rubbed her arm.

"Still? Maybe you should go home and rest? You look really tired…maybe one day off wasn't enough?" he asked, knowing that she'd stayed home sick the day before.

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the smells and how nauseated it all made her feel.

"No…it's okay. I've got too much going on in my classes today. I'll be alright," she insisted.

He continued to rub her arm, giving her a soft kiss atop her head. He could see she genuinely didn't feel well.

"Are you sure? I could take you home and look after you?" he said softly. She really looked like she needed to go home.

Craig started to bite at one of his fingernails as he eavesdropped. He wished he could be the one holding and comforting her. He also wished he didn't feel that way; he loathed the fact that the decisions he'd been making were going to hurt Stan so much. He knew it was only a matter of time. Fuck. He felt like he hated himself as he tried to act like nothing was wrong. He felt so dirty about himself, a little frightened at just how duplicitous he was capable of being. What kind of monster did he have to be to keep this charade going for as long as he already had?

Wendy was so focused on willing herself to keep the vomit down she wasn't able to answer Stan.

"Come on…I'll take you home. It's just a day, Wendy. It doesn't matter that much," he said quietly as he stood up.

She put her hand to her head and stood up with him, not bothering to look at anyone else as she allowed him to lead her out of the lunch room. Craig lifted his eyes from his phone and watched as they left. He let his eyes linger a beat too long, and he was surprised as he turned and realized Kyle was eyeing him. Craig shrugged at him and quickly looked back to his phone, trying to act like he didn't care about it; he wasn't fooling anyone, though. Kyle already had his suspicions, and Craig's constantly lingering eyes were becoming more and more of a thing.

"She doesn't seem right, does she?" Bebe wondered out loud.

"Well…she hasn't been as bitchy as she usually is, that's for sure," Cartman commented.

"Shut up, Cartman," Craig said carelessly as he continued to scroll through his phone.

Kyle decided to push it. He wanted to see what Craig would do.

"Stan said she's barely even been talking to him lately. He thinks she's having problems at home."

Bebe fidgeted in her seat, "I don't think so. Her parents have been okay, last I went over. There's definitely something going on with her, though. She hasn't been right in weeks."

Craig started to bounce his heels on the ground beneath him, nervously listening and keeping his eyes on his phone. He had to act like none of this mattered to him. His heart was racing, though, and he had a pit in his stomach.

Kyle went on, "apparently, she's been dropping off the radar for hours on end, too. Stan's had quite a few times he's tried to call her and hasn't been able to get a hold of her. "

"Yeah, me too…" Bebe answered, "…and she and I haven't hung out in so long. She's definitely been off."

Kyle glanced at Craig. He was buried in his phone, but he took notice of his uncomfortable body language.

"You know what I think?" Kyle started, "I think she's cheating on him. It makes sense. The odd behavior, the disappearances…"

"No way…she wouldn't do that to Stan," Kenny insisted.

"Why not?" Cartman decided to get in on the drama.

Bebe was quietly considering Kyle's accusation. It did seem possible. But who in the hell would she cheat with? She hadn't noticed her cozying up to anyone.

"No…I don't think so," Bebe said hesitantly, "I haven't noticed anything that gives me that idea around her. I think there's just…something. I don't know what, but something."

Kyle was aggravated that Craig was able to just ignore the conversation. He looked directly toward him, "care to add anything?"

Craig lifted his eyes and shrugged, "no. I don't really know her and I don't really care. You guys are being a bunch of gossip whores right now."

"We're not gossiping. Bebe is worried about Wendy and I'm worried about Stan. Maybe you don't care about Wendy, but you care about Stan, don't you?"

Craig sighed and set his phone on the table. He remembered Wendy telling him that Kyle seemed suspicious of them. He assumed that's what this was all about; he had to tread carefully here.

"Obviously I don't want Stan to be upset; he's my brother. I care about him. But Wendy is a grown ass woman and he is a grown ass man and what goes on between them is their business, not ours. If Stan wants something from me, I'm around. But I don't seem to recall him asking any of you assholes to fix this for him, and I haven't seen Wendy do that either. You all need to mind your own goddamn business," he responded in a calm, measured way.

Kyle felt his cheeks running hot as he tried to decide whether or not to push it. His answer didn't really sway him either way as to whether or not they were involved. He had one last card he wanted to play before he'd be okay with dropping it.

"You're probably right. Maybe I'm wrong. I mean, if she were cheating on him she probably wouldn't want to have sex anymore, right? From what I hear everything in _that_ department is fine,"

"Oh-ho!" Cartman spat out, amused. Kyle was being kind of an asshole. He wasn't sure why, but he liked it.

Craig's face flushed a little, but otherwise there wasn't much of a reaction. He shrugged and picked his phone back up, "you guys are dumbasses. Mind your own business. Seriously."

Kyle decided to drop it. School was about to start anyway.

…

Wendy had spent more time dry heaving and spitting up the remaining contents of her stomach when they'd arrived at her house. Christ. This was brutal. It didn't help things that Stan was being so kind to her. He'd gotten her a big glass of ice water while she was in the bathroom, and when she came out he tucked her into the sheets of her bed and sat beside her, rubbing her with the tips of his fingers. She loved when he did that. As she laid there, she couldn't help but feel so deeply conflicted. When Craig wasn't around and she had these moments with Stan, her heart felt so pulled. He was familiar and kind. He was safe and he loved her. It made her ache deep, deep down in her soul to know the pain she was going to unleash on him. Despite how strongly she felt about Craig, there was still a huge part of her that belonged to Stan. He'd been her first love; her only love for most of her life. It was just about the worst feeling in the world knowing that, not only was he going to be crushed when she did finally get the nerve to end it, but she would be losing a really significant, big part of the person she'd thought she was. She wasn't sure who she was without him.

"Wendy…" he said softly, "what's been going on with you? Are you okay?"

Her stomach was in knots. She knew he was aware something was up with her. It was obvious. She hadn't done much to hide it.

"No," she quietly admitted.

Stan kept rubbing her hair, staring across her room as he spoke, "why not? What's happened to you?"

She wasn't sure what to say, so she just let silence hang in the air between them. He finally moved away from her a little, causing her to look up at him. His eyes looked pleading as he stared at her.

"Please tell me. I can help…"

"No. You can't."

"Why not?"

She stared at him for another moment. What the hell could she say? A sad look fell over his face as he went on.

"Wendy…is it me? Are you tired of me? Did I do something wrong?"

"It's not you, Stan. It's just…I've just got some things going on in my life that are hard and I'm not sure how to handle it."

"Then let me help you, Wendy. You don't have to handle everything on your own all the time. That's what relationships are for…you need someone in your corner when things get tough."

She looked down into her lap as tears started to fall down her cheeks. She brushed them away, furious with herself for letting them fall. She wasn't ready to have this conversation. She wasn't ready to leave him. She did _not_ intend on doing it now. She didn't know how else to get out of it, so she just kissed him. She kissed him purposefully and, much to her relief, as she pulled him down close he melted right into the familiarity of it all. Though a part of her really didn't want to, she knew sex was the most efficient way to delay the ugly situation that lay straight ahead of them. If that was what it took, that was what she would do; thankfully, Stan was none the wiser, as the two of them slept together, trying to forget the pain so obviously wedged between them.

…

"I just don't get it, you know?" Cartman asked.

He and Kyle were hanging out at Stark's Pond together after school. Since Stan and Craig had grown so close, it appeared there was less space for Kyle in his life. At first, Cartman had enjoyed it thoroughly because it obviously bothered Kyle. However, he was surprised to find that Kyle wanted to spend more time with him now that Stan was less available. They'd always had one of those love/hate kind of relationships; admittedly there were times it was heavier on the hate. Cartman had decided to ease up on all the shit he normally gave him. Part of him was curious to see where things could land between them without Stan around so much.

"Yeah, that's weird," Kyle agreed. They'd been talking about his issues with Bebe, and Kyle was actually listening to him. It was all kind of weird for them both to be talking like this; like they were actually friends instead of foes. Interestingly, they both considered it to be a good kind of weird.

"I think she's seeing Craig," Cartman insisted.

That really got Kyle's attention; his emerald green eyes snapped up and met Cartman's.

"Jesus, Jew. What is it?" he asked, realizing something was off.

"Why do you think that?" Kyle ignored, wanting more information.

Cartman, sensing the urgency in Kyle's voice, couldn't help but get a little defensive.

"I just do, okay? Jesus Christ, you're such a fuckin' weirdo."

Kyle blinked, realizing his reaction was kind of intense. He was going to have to explain.

"Sorry. It's just that I've had my own suspicions about Craig."

This aroused Cartman's interest, but he was more calm and calculating about it.

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

Kyle looked around them, irritating Cartman a little. No one was around. They were out in the woods alone for Christ's sake.

"Spit it out, Jew," Cartman demanded, growing impatient.

"Alright, alright. You can't tell anyone, though. You have to promise."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Cartman waved his hand at him, "I won't. I pinky swear it or whatever. Just tell me!"

Kyle eyed Cartman for a moment, showing him that he was very serious about him keeping his mouth shut. Eric could tell he meant business and decided it would behoove him to just play nice.

"Okay, yes. I promise I won't tell anyone," he assured, locking their eyes to show his sincerity; it was enough to convince him.

"Okay. I'm not for sure on this, but I just have this _feeling_. I've noticed Wendy and Craig look like they're texting with each other sometimes; like it looks like back and forth. It makes me feel like they're hiding something…and what do you think those two would want to hide from the rest of us, you know?"

Cartman nodded, realizing where the conversation was headed.

"You mentioned Wendy disappearing this morning. Does Craig go missing, too?"

Kyle nodded, "I mean…maybe? I know Wendy goes missing, but Stan and I don't really bother Craig about his business. It's not like Stan tries to call him for hours on end, you know? But I'd be willing to bet he wouldn't answer his phone either. They're screwing around, Cartman. I'm telling you. I know it."

Cartman nodded, "maybe. Craig is an asshole. Seems on brand."

A calm silence settled between the two of them as Kyle realized the massive relief it was to get that off of his chest.

"Wow…I've been wanting to tell someone that for a long time," he admitted.

Eric smiled at him, looking genuine. Kyle returned the sentiment, realizing what else this meant.

"So, you should feel better then. I doubt Craig is sleeping with Bebe."

Either that or he was screwing them both. It wasn't something Eric would put past him. That Craig was a diabolical motherfucker and he expected nothing less than the worst from him.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he said, not wanting to talk about it anymore. For the moment, he just wanted to have fun with his friend. He decided to put the rest of his bullshit on the back burner for a while. Kyle spent enough time listening to Stan whine as it was; Eric wanted something better than that for the two of them.

…

Craig and Clyde were hanging out in his room. Clyde was sitting at his computer desk working on some homework and Craig was lounging on his bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about things. School had been difficult. As well as he'd been able to blow of Kyle in the morning, the reality of what he said had him in knots. Of course Wendy was still fucking Stan; that should've been obvious to him. If she didn't, there was no way he'd think things were salvageable. Still; the thought of it hurt profoundly. He didn't want to share her, even though in reality, Stan was the one sharing her with him. Another wave of sickening shame washed over him. Clyde noticed Craig looked upset, so he set his pencil down and turned his chair around, catching Craig's attention.

"Are you alright, dude?" Clyde asked.

Craig sat up, shrugging his shoulders, "I don't know. I'm alright. Not the best, but I'm alright."

Clyde nodded, "what is it?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the side as he spoke, "it's this thing with Wendy. Kyle said something this morning that got to me."

Clyde was entirely confused, "what do you mean? I thought no one knows about it?"

Craig looked at him, "he doesn't. He suspects, though. He has for a while. He was trying to provoke me this morning."

"Oh, Jesus…I hope you didn't say anything stupid, Tucker," Clyde lamented, shaking his head.

"I didn't."

Clyde eyed him for a moment, "alright. Good. Well…what'd he say then?"

"He had everyone gossiping about Wendy and he kept insisting something was up with her. He said that he thought she was cheating on Stan and then he really laid into me. He asked me why I had nothing to say and everything, and I played it off, but then he started talking how he was probably wrong because she and Stan are still fucking a lot, apparently."

"Ooooh," Clyde said awkwardly as he leaned back into his chair and blew some air out of his mouth.

"Yeah…" Craig said, putting his hand to his head.

"He was probably just trying to get a reaction out of you," Clyde mused.

"I know he was. But…the thing is…whether or not it's a lot is irrelevant. I guess I just hadn't let myself think about it before. Obviously they're doing that. Otherwise things would've blown up by now, right?"

Clyde scratched the back of his head, "I mean…yeah, probably. But, isn't that kind of just a part of the deal when you start having an affair with someone?"

Craig nodded, a sad look on his face, "I know. It just…it feels really fucking bad. The whole thing feels bad. I don't like thinking of someone else being that way with her, and I don't like the way I feel after she and I fuck; all I can think about when it's over is how awful this thing I'm doing to Stan is. Christ. I don't know what to do."

Clyde looked at his friend sympathetically. That sounded pretty awful. At least when it came to Bebe he didn't really give a shit about Cartman. She was going to break up with him soon, too; they'd already talked about it.

"Have you guys talked at all about her leaving Stan?"

Craig looked down into his lap, picking at one of his finger nails, "no. I haven't had the nerve to bring it up."

"Listen, man…here's what I think. I think if she leaves him and you two wait a while and let him know that you're together it would suck, but I think if she stays and it all comes out while they're _together_ it's going to be a whole lot worse. You need to ask her to leave him…and if she won't, then I would say you have your answer."

Craig lifted his hand to his mouth and started to bite at the skin around his nail, "I know. I know. I just…fuck. What if she doesn't love me the way I love her? I'm kind of afraid she won't leave him."

Clyde stared at him, wanting to shake some sense into him, "well, you can't carry on like this, Craig. Something's got to give."

Craig looked at him nervously. He was right. This shit had to end.


	17. Something's Got to Give

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig asks Wendy to leave Stan. Kyle and Cartman take their relationship to the next level.

Wendy and Craig were in his truck, parked off in the woods away from town. He had her laid down across the seat, kissing frantically as they finished having sex. Craig rested his forehead against hers, his eyes shut as he breathed shallow, his heart and stomach aching. It had been a few days since Clyde had advised him to talk to her about leaving Stan, and he hadn't yet found the nerve. He dropped his head down and buried his face into her neck as she rubbed the back of his head affectionately. She could tell he wasn't alright.

"Craig…" she said softly, causing him to lift his head and meet her eyes.

They stared at each other, wide eyed. It was always like this after. The guilt; it was practically swallowing them whole.

"You have to leave him…" he whispered desperately, still out of breath, "…I can't take this anymore."

She stared at him, also trying to catch her breath. She didn't know what to say. Up until now, they'd never discussed it. She'd thought maybe he never would. The walls were coming down around her. Both he and Stan needed something to give. It was all on her.

"Please, Wendy," he urged, not willing to break their gaze, "please. This is so fucking wrong. He's my brother. I can't do this to him anymore."

"Craig…I…" she hesitated.

He watched her quietly as she struggled to find the right words. His face soon fell into disappointment. He abruptly lifted himself off of her, getting himself dressed and adjusted. She sat up and moved to the opposite side of the truck, redressing herself and pulling her legs in close. She averted her eyes and waited; she felt like she deserved whatever he had to say.

"Wendy…they're all I've got. They're my family. I love them…all of them. I love _you_. What can I do here?"

She shook her head and shut her eyes hard; she couldn't help it as she started to cry. She was stuffing so much down. She was horrified to hurt Stan. She was confused, trying to understand this person she was becoming. She was nearly brought to the brink of what she could handle when she'd discovered the pregnancy. It was all just so much to take. As they continued to sit in silence Craig leaned his arm on the window's edge, placing his hand to his head. He sniffled as tears started to fall down his face, too.

"I can't do this anymore, Wendy. It's wrong. This is hands down the most fucked up thing I've ever done in my life. It has to stop."

Wendy cupped her hand over her mouth as she started to cry harder. Craig kept his eyes fixed on his lap. He wanted to comfort her, but he couldn't. Either she had to leave Stan or they had to stop. There was just no other way. This wasn't working anymore. Wendy felt like the world was crashing down around her. She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell him she was pregnant with his child. She wanted to tell him how petrifying it was for her to do anything that might blow up her life any worse than it already was. She sobbed loudly while he just sat there, looking away from her, pretending like it wasn't happening. They sat this way for quite some time before he started up the truck and quietly headed toward her house.

She managed to calm herself as he drove. He'd stopped crying, too, choosing to just focus on getting her home. She sniffled a bit before finally finding the nerve to speak.

"I'll leave him."

Craig glanced at her, surprised. He'd thought for sure she was going to stay with Stan.

"When?"

"I'll do it after dinner this weekend."

Craig nodded. He'd forgotten; they were having a cookout in the back yard on Saturday since the weather had started to turn. The Marsh's had told the kids to invite their friends. Craig had invited Clyde and Stan had invited Wendy and his friends; Shelley was bringing her boyfriend. It made sense to wait for that to be done.

"Should we tell him about us?" Craig asked, feeling a little sick.

"I don't know," she relented, sniffling again.

Craig looked ahead as he spoke, "I think I have to tell him at some point, Wendy. I can't keep lying to everyone."

"Do you want me to leave that to you?" she asked, realizing it wasn't only her information to carry.

He considered her question for a moment. He glanced at her; she was a wreck. He'd noticed earlier that she'd lost weight, and her anxiety was plainly through the roof. She was burdened enough. They were in this together. He understood that some of the weight had to come down on him, too.

"I can tell him," he said flatly.

She nodded, feeling the slightest bit of relief at that statement. The rest of the ride was quiet. He pulled up alongside her house and she unbuckled herself, pausing to look at him. His light blue eyes seemed especially large as she stared at him.

"Craig…" she said hesitantly, "I…"

He looked at her expectantly as she considered just spitting it out and telling him she was pregnant. She looked back toward her house and thought better of it. She reached out and grabbed his hand.

"I love you," she finally said quietly, staring at him fearfully.

His eyes started to water again as she squeezed her hand. He looked miserable.

"I really fucking love you, too," he answered, wiping at his face as another tear fell down.

She nodded at him, giving his hand a squeeze as well, before she quickly got out of the truck and made her way into the house.

…

"I feel like feather," Kyle said stupidly, staring up at the sky. Once again, he found himself at Stark's Pond with Cartman, exploring whatever the hell was going on in their relationship. Eric had convinced him to smoke a little weed with him, and they were both laying on the ground, their shoulders touching, as they melted into their high.

"What?" Cartman laughed.

"You know…a feather…I feel like I'm floating around like a feather."

Cartman laughed some more, entirely amused. Pot had a way of bringing out the silliest shit in other people, and they were both giddy as they passed a joint back and forth.

"You're a fairy…that's what you are," he teased.

"Not any more than you are!" Kyle retorted.

There was no animosity in either of their voices. They were just bantering. Cartman took a hit and let it out slow, starting to think out loud.

"Sometimes I think it would be easier that way…"

Kyle continued to look at the stars, suddenly aware of their touching shoulders.

"What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

"You know…women. They're so goddamn confusing. I don't understand them. They never fucking like me. I'm not even sure I like them half the time."

Kyle realized what he was saying had to do with Bebe. He was just being dramatic in classic Cartman fashion.

"Are you still worried about Bebe? You know she isn't sleeping with Craig, right? There's no way. He's obsessed with Wendy."

Eric scoffed, "oh come on. You don't think that asshole would be fucking both of them? Craig doesn't give a shit about Wendy. He doesn't give a shit about anyone. I don't know how he manages to dupe all those girls the way he does," he was starting to sound angry.

Kyle sighed, frustrated to be talking about Bebe, Craig and Wendy again. He was getting tired of everyone's drama.

"I don't know," he said, not wanting to talk about it anymore. Eric picked up on Kyle's frustration.

He abruptly lifted his hand and held out the joint for Kyle to take. Kyle reached out, their fingers brushing as he took it. They both paused for a moment, allowing their fingers to linger. Kyle's guard was down just enough that he pressed his hand closer, his eyes locked onto Eric. They remained for just a moment before Kyle abruptly removed his hand.

"Thanks," he spat out, putting the joint into his mouth and taking another hit.

Cartman swallowed hard before turning his attention back to the sky, willing himself to push the pit in his stomach away.

"Yeah…no worries…" he mumbled.

They continued to stare up at the sky as Kyle pushed the joint down into the dirt, putting it out.

"What just happened?" he asked, not wanting to ignore it.

Kyle heard Eric turn his head to look at him, so he did the same. His hazel eyes were pleasant, and he was glad to see he didn't look like he was about to start hurling insults.

"Do you ever think about it?" Cartman suddenly asked.

"About what?"

Cartman swallowed again, "you know…what I said about the girls being so confusing and shit. Do you ever wonder if it'd be better with a dude?"

Kyle looked him over, a soft smile on his face. Eric felt like his heart was going to explode as he nervously tried to read him. Before he could start stammering out excuses, Kyle sat up a little and leaned down, gently planting a kiss on Eric's mouth. He pulled away and looked at him; Cartman's eyes were wide. They stared at each other for another minute, a dumbass grin firm on Kyle's face.

"Do you want to find out?" Kyle finally asked; he'd been thinking about Eric a lot these days. He was relieved to know the door appeared to be open.

Cartman smirked at him, placing his hand on the back of his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. He could hardly believe it. Someone wanted him. Who'd have thought that someone would wind up being Kyle Broflovski? His entire being was consumed with the pleasure of consensual, intense want as they embarked on this new, unfamiliar journey together.


	18. Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secret is out.

Wendy felt like she was floating as she helped Sharon set out snacks on the long pop-up table set up in the backyard. She'd arrived a little early at Stan's request, finding herself unable to refuse anything he asked for as the end of their relationship unknowingly approached. She hadn't wanted to go early, though. It was intense spending time with the Marsh's and Craig at the same time; it made it too difficult to compartmentalize the whole thing. She was also nauseated and exhausted; she definitely could've spent her entire day wallowing, sleeping and isolated in her room. She figured she could handle this last day, though, because tomorrow she was going to end things with Stan and move forward with her life. The thought was both terrifying and liberating.

As she and Sharon milled about, the boys brought out more food, cups and plates. Wendy allowed her eyes to quietly land on Craig, her stomach fluttering at the sight of him. As frightened as she was about what tomorrow might bring, she was really, really happy to know Craig would be there on the other side of it. It would be messy and complicated, but at least they were going to try and approach it as well as they could, and they would have each other to lean on as they walked through it. She couldn't help but smile at him as he set down some food and caught her eyes. He smirked back at her; their moods were both lifted as they saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

…

"Look, Kyle, this has been cool and all. I actually hate to say it, but I haven't entirely _hated_ all of the time we've been spending together, but…" Cartman explained, gathering up his wallet and keys. They were getting ready to head over to the BBQ at Stan's house and Eric was feeling awkward about showing up with Kyle, even though there wasn't really anything strange about it to begin with.

"But what?" Kyle asked, frustrated. He could tell Cartman was feeling off about what had happened between them the night before.

"Look…it's not you. I just can't feel this way, okay? Last night was great. That was fun and all, but I just think we need to, like, step back for a minute okay? We have this thing and I think it's got your Jew head all mixed up into thinking you have some feelings for me or whatever, but you don't…"

"What? Are you serious? Last I checked, you participated, too!" Kyle spat out, tossing his hands up into the air.

Cartman eyed him quietly as he struggled to make sense of things. All of this because their stupid fingers touched for a second too long. Christ. Eric shrugged, giving Kyle an exasperated look. What could he say?

"Cartman, listen…it's not like I said I love you or something, okay? I don't even understand what is going on here…it's been…a surprise, to say the least. Just, and don't you dare rag on me right now, let's just see what happens here, alright? No expectations. I just want to see where this goes."

Cartman swallowed hard and shifted on his feet uncomfortably. He wanted to do the same. It was just difficult for him to face; he knew deep down Kyle was someone he could really fall in love with, and that thought was frightening to him.

"Christ. Alright. Fine," he spat out awkwardly.

Kyle smiled at him warmly. Before Eric could start griping his doorbell rang. Kyle stepped aside as Eric went up to the door and answered it, surprised to see Bebe standing there.

"Oh, uh…hey, Bebe," he said nervously, scratching the back of his head. Great. Now he had to deal with Bebe in addition to Kyle. This was just about as much nonsense as he could tolerate.

"Look, I'm not really in a great mood right now and I'm on my way out. Wouldja mind coming by tomorrow?" he asked, not prepared to handle her. He figured he needed to dump her as fast as possible with what was going on between him and Kyle.

Eric was about to shut the door in her face when she spoke flatly.

"I came here to break up with you."

He froze, blinking stupidly at her. What? Well…that just sorted itself out at least.

"Okay," he responded, shrugging his shoulders.

She was wringing her hands nervously in front of her stomach.

"Okay," she said quietly, not sure what else there was to say.

"Uh…can I ask why?" Cartman asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

"It's not you," she assured, a little surprised at how calm he was behaving. She'd thought he'd be more upset.

"Okay…?" he prodded.

He folded his arms across his chest, looking at her expectantly.

"There's someone else," she began, "I've been sleeping with someone else. I'm really sorry, Eric. I know it's shitty…" she felt like she was about to start rambling. However, before she could go on Cartman interrupted her.

"He's fucking Wendy, you know…"

Kyle squeezed his eyes shut in exasperation. Goddamn it. He'd told him to keep his mouth shut about it!

"Huh?" she asked, entirely confused.

"Look…I don't care if you don't want to be with me, Bebe. It's alright. Seriously. I've got something going on with someone else, too. It's whatever. But please, for the love of Christ, stop fucking Craig. He doesn't love you. He doesn't love anyone. He's just using you."

Bebe narrowed her eyes as she slowly started to put the pieces together.

"I'm not seeing Craig, Eric. I've been seeing Clyde…"

Eric felt his face run hot and his stomach drop. Oops. Shit. He should've waited a minute before he started running his goddamn mouth.

"Oh…shit. I'm sorry…" he stammered, glancing nervously at Kyle.

"Wait…so, you mean to tell me, that the reason my best friend has been acting shady is because she's been fucking _my_ ex? Her boyfriend's own _brother_!?" Bebe asked, her eyes wide. She was breathing fast and her hands were trembling.

Eric opened his mouth like he was going to say something, realizing he'd massively fucked up telling her that.

"Goddamn it, Cartman!" Kyle spat out from beside him.

Bebe peered behind Eric, realizing Kyle was there.

"Where were you guys going before I showed up?" she asked, a flatness in her voice that made the boys nervous.

"Nowhere…" Cartman said sheepishly.

"Tell me!" she raised her voice. She was not in the mood for games.

"We were going to Stan's house for a barbecue," Kyle answered her, coming up beside Cartman.

"Is she there?"

"No!" Eric insisted, his eyes wide.

She narrowed her eyes at him again, "liar," she spat out before storming off toward her car.

Eric and Kyle exchanged a mortified glance before running out into the driveway and throwing themselves into Eric's vehicle. They followed behind Bebe, knowing she was headed for the Marsh's.

"Why did you do that, fatass!?" Kyle demanded, throwing his hands up in the air angrily.

"Fuck…I really thought it was Craig. I just thought she should know!" Cartman defended himself.

"I already told you there was no way!"

"Shut up Kyle! I know, alright? I fucked up! Christ…"

Kyle folded his arms and leaned forward as though it could make the car go faster. They quit arguing and followed, riddled with anxiety. They both knew they were about to unleash a horrible scene at the Marsh household if they couldn't convince her to keep her mouth shut. It felt like forever, but they were soon at Stan's house, both of them leaping out of Eric's vehicle and running up ahead of Bebe, who was stomping toward their backyard.

"Bebe!" Eric whispered harshly as he cut her off, "Bebe…think about this before you do it. You're going to upset a _lot_ of people if you go in there running your mouth."

"I'm not even sure if it's true!" Kyle whispered back.

Bebe folded her arms, glaring at them both.

"What do you mean, Kyle?" she asked, directing her attention toward him.

"I mean it's just a hunch. I've never actually seen any proof of it! I only told Eric because he was so upset about you; he thought you were having a thing with him."

She hesitated, trying to figure out if it was true or not. Anything Eric said to her was moot as far as she was concerned; he would lie through his teeth if it would benefit him in any way. Kyle Broflovski, however, was a different story.

"I won't say it in front of everyone, but I have to talk to her," she finally insisted, storming past the two of them and walking into the Marsh's backyard. Kyle and Eric anxiously followed.

Wendy was leaning into Stan, holding his hand and chatting with his parents, when she realized Bebe was there. She blinked and smiled toward her, surprised to see her there.

"Bebe…hi! What're you doing here?" she asked, realizing that Cartman had probably decided to bring her.

Bebe walked up to her, her hands trembling in fists at her sides as she tried to decide what to do and what to say. Wendy's face gave way to anxiety as she realized something was wrong.

"Bebe…?"

"You bitch!" Bebe suddenly shouted, tears in her eyes.

Wendy shut her mouth abruptly. Oh no. She knew.

"Bebe…please…" she started to plead, "…let's go talk somewhere private, okay? Please…"

Everyone was standing there, a little caught off guard, staring at the two upset young women. Stan furrowed his brow, entirely naïve about what was going on. Craig was off to the side, his face white.

"You've been lying to me…to everyone!" she continued, her fists clenched tight.

Craig stepped forward a little, "Bebe…calm down!"

"SHUT UP!" She shouted, squeezing her eyes shut.

Craig averted his gaze to the ground and shoved his hands into his pockets. Suddenly Bebe hurled herself toward Wendy, knocking her to the ground. Wendy screamed as Bebe started to try and hit her. Wendy kept throwing up her hands and blocking her punches.

"Bebe! Stop! Stop it!"

Everyone around them was so stunned it took a moment for anyone to do a thing. As Craig ran up to pull Bebe off of her Wendy screamed out loud, "Bebe! Stop! I'm pregnant! Please!"

As she said it, Craig pulled Bebe off of her. Sharon put her hand to her mouth, realizing Stan must've gotten her pregnant. That must've been why she'd been so off. Randy assumed the same, swallowing hard and reaching for Sharon's hand.

"What!?" Bebe hollered out, tears falling down her face.

Craig's face ran hot. Oh God.

"Wendy…" he said softly.

"How could you be pregnant? We're always so careful?" Stan asked as he knelt down beside her to help her up. She refused his help and stood on her own, tears pooled in her eyes as she spoke.

"It's not yours, Stan."

Craig's hands were shaking as he folded his arms across his chest and dropped his shoulders. His eyes were fixated on Wendy. Sharon and Randy both felt a moment of relief knowing the baby didn't belong to their son. Cartman and Kyle were staring in shock.

"Who's is it?" Stan asked, a pained look on his face.

Wendy dropped her eyes, not wanting to tell him. Craig cleared his throat before stepping forward a little, catching Stan's attention.

"I'm so sorry, Stan…"

Stan's eyes were wide as he stood there, taking it all in. Sharon and Randy felt sick as they realized what all of it meant. Sharon's hunch about Wendy and Craig had been right. They both felt gutted to hear the truth of it. Sharon was especially frustrated. She'd chosen to let this kid into her life with reluctance and he'd wiggled his way into her heart, only to prove that everything they'd all been warned about was true.

"You know what?" Stan said, shaking his head, "fuck both of you. But especially you, Craig. I actually thought you and I were brothers. I was fucking wrong."

Craig looked at the ground as Stan eyed him for another moment before storming into the house. He sniffled and wiped a tear away from his face. He couldn't bring himself to look at Randy and Sharon.

"Seriously, fuck you both," Bebe spat out as she turned on her heels and abruptly left.

A tense silence settled between the rest of them before Wendy looked at Craig.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you when I found out," she said quietly.

Craig lifted his gaze before walking toward her and pulling her in close for a hug. What did it matter at this point? He knew he had to leave. This thing with the Marsh's was over. He figured he may as well be real about it now.

"It's okay…we'll figure it out," he insisted.

Sharon dropped her eyes, trying to control her anger. Randy looked on helplessly before speaking.

"Craig…"

Craig released Wendy and turned to look at his father. It was difficult, but he maintained eye contact as Randy questioned him.

"…why did you do this? What's going on here?"

"I didn't want to hurt anyone," Craig insisted, "least of all Stan. It just happened. I fell in love with her…it wasn't a thing I meant to do."

Sharon finally piped in, "both of you…we've treated _both_ of you like members of this family…"

She couldn't bring herself to say much more. Craig and Wendy both felt the relentless weight of shame sitting atop their shoulders as they pushed through this difficult conversation.

"I know," Craig answered her, "and I know it probably feels like that doesn't matter to me right now, but it does. More than you know. This thing with Wendy and I started before I even knew about you guys, and it just…it just got bigger than us. It was happening before I got so close with you all. It's been killing me."

"Me, too…" Wendy sniffled as she cried beside him.

Randy looked sympathetically at them both. He could tell Sharon was furious, and he knew Stan was in a world of pain, but Craig was his son and he was in a real situation now with the pregnancy. He was going to continue to need his help.

"What're you going to do about this baby?" Randy asked, looking toward Wendy. There was no malice in his voice.

She wiped her eyes and looked toward him as she answered, "I'm keeping it."

Craig shoved his hands into his pockets and looked down at his feet. Wendy quickly turned toward him and touched his chin. Their eyes met as she spoke again, "I want to keep this baby."

He felt terrified at the prospect of being a father. He removed one of his hands and laced his fingers with hers. He knew she wanted to know what that meant for them. He continued to look into her eyes as he spoke with conviction, "okay…then let's do this. I'll get a job. We'll save up and get a place. I'm not walking out."

At that she started to cry harder, her shoulders shaking as she started to ramble, "I'm so sorry, Craig. I know things were getting better for you. I know you've been happy here and you've been feeling like your life is getting on track. Everything is screwed now…"

He placed both of his hands on her face, "Wendy…Wendy…hey…"

She cried as he held onto her face and leaned down, looking into her eyes, "Wendy…you haven't fucked everything up. We did all of this together…it wasn't just you."

"But you finally seemed happy…" she sobbed.

He smiled and let out a small, unbelieving laugh, "Wendy…I _am_ happy. _You're_ my happiness."

She quieted down, allowing him to wipe the tears from her cheeks as he continued, "and this baby is only going to bring us even more happiness. Is it going to be hard as hell? Yeah…probably. But this is _not_ a bad thing. This is joy…a new life is _joy_. Don't you understand? I've lost everything. I lost my mom, my dad, my sister…a new baby is _not_ something I'm afraid of. I'm just so grateful to be alive…anything short of death is something to be thankful for."

She stared at him, realizing the heaviness behind what he was saying. He was right. How had she not realized this? She blinked as she began to understand. The things Craig had been through had changed him to his core. As she took in all that he'd said she realized he wasn't the boy who'd taken her on that dangerous ride so long ago. He was acting like a real man, and it made her feel a bit more optimistic about the predicament they were in. A moment passed between them before Craig looked at Randy and Sharon, addressing them directly.

"I'm sorry. I'm very sorry about all of this, and I truly appreciate everything you've done for me. But I have to go. I have to get my things…I'm going to Gramma's. Stan needs some space and I have to get my life together," he stepped forward and looked at Randy.

Randy swallowed, his eyes fixated on this young man. He seemed wise beyond his years in that moment. It was odd, but he felt kind of proud of him; the things he'd said to Wendy were profound in his eyes. He reached out his hand and touched Craig's shoulder. They searched each other, neither of them wanting to let go of the relationship they'd built.

"Craig…" he said, though he stopped short of anything else. He wanted to say more, but his own pride and fear held him back.

Craig smiled at him knowingly.

"Dad…"

Randy felt a pit in his stomach. Dad? He'd just called him dad! Randy smiled at him softly before squeezing his shoulder. They'd said all they needed to. They both knew the relationship would remain intact. As Randy released him Craig looked toward Sharon.

"I'm sorry, Sharon. I know it hasn't been easy having me here. I hope you can forgive me someday."

Sharon was quiet as Craig turned around. He placed his arm around Wendy and led her into the house. It was time to pack up and face forward. It hadn't gone down the way they'd wanted, but in that moment, Wendy and Craig both felt the smallest glimmer of hope. Maybe things would actually work out alright.


	19. Laura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig confronts the memories he's been holding back about his mother. Stan moves ahead in college.

He sat quietly in his truck, parked in the driveway of his old home. It had become a place of solace since his family had passed. Whenever anything became too overwhelming this was the place he instinctively landed. Of course, he'd still never gone inside. As he sat there now in the wake of all that had happened, he had to acknowledge how far he'd come since that horrible day.

He chewed absentmindedly on a piece of nicotine gum. Once Wendy had told him about the baby he'd decided he should knock it off; it had been about eight months since then and he considered his life to be generally well at this point. Graduation had happened, he was working full time at the grocery store, which paid him well enough to afford an apartment, and he went to night classes at the community college. His grandmother had given him enough for a deposit when she'd learned about everything that had transpired; she had been a rock, entirely unbothered by the way he'd gotten where he was. She welcomed Wendy with open arms, and the air between them all had been nothing but loving. He supposed the thought of a great grandchild must've held extra meaning after losing so much. It felt that way for him, too.

He leaned back as he fixated his crystal blue eyes upon the window of his old family room. He remembered what it used to look like; warm and inviting, particularly around the holidays. His mother used to insist on shoving the most giant, lush tree she could find right in front of the window, its comforting glow visible for all of December every year. Now all that donned its rain-stained glass was a dirty and a poorly worded foreclosure notice. He sighed as he thought about the way he'd never managed to go inside and face it. Even to this day he struggled when thoughts of his family clouded up his mind; particularly, he'd done his best to avoid thinking about his mom. He'd almost discussed it with Mr. Mackey. Almost.

As he sat there, listless and wanting, thoughts of her had started to creep. It gave him a disconcerting feeling of chills and warmth, each working their way throughout his numbed out body. The pain was nearly unbearable; the pain of losing his home with the Marsh's. The pain of losing his family. The pain of the person he used to be – the drugs, the sex, the cruelty he'd exhibited. He felt the weight of it all as he stared without pause at his old home. He wouldn't cry this time. He'd let it all out with Clyde at the funeral. However, he would, maybe, allow those creeping thoughts of his mother to land. _Maybe_.

Without warning he turned the key and started up his truck. If he was going to face her, he was going to do it right.

…

Stan sat quietly in class, finding entry-level college courses dull and unchallenging. Nonetheless, he still found it satisfying to be pursuing something, particularly because he got to live away from South Park. Over the months since Craig had moved out he'd been painfully aware of the fact that his dad kept regular contact with him. What irked him even more was the fondness his mother still seemed to have for him; despite how icy she'd been in the immediate aftermath, he'd heard her asking after Craig's wellbeing in the quiet moments she thought Stan wasn't around. He didn't really feel angry or hateful toward his parents for caring about Craig. How could he? He didn't expect his dad to just stop caring about his son, nor did he expect his mother to stop worrying about him; that was her way. He did feel, however, a hurt that he simply couldn't avoid. So, in light of it all, it was refreshing to be living out of town and embarking on his own, independent life in Denver.

So far, other than the monotony of freshman courses, he'd enjoyed the college experience. He'd spent most of his time thus far learning the ropes, an experience he got to share with his equally clueless roommate. They instantly became close, the two of them sharing a similar sense of humor and love of the same time activities. In fact, it was his new friend who'd introduced him to Mignya, a lovely, cute-as-a-button woman in his English course. He had taken a liking to her instantly and, much to his shock, the feeling had been mutual. Within a few days of meeting he couldn't help but ask her on a date, and after a handful of those they had gotten physical. He found himself a little grateful for the opportunity to be intimate with someone aside from Wendy, realizing that he enjoyed Mignya on both an emotional and physical level more than he really ever had with her. He'd loved Wendy, that was for certain, but he'd fallen far beyond his old ideas of such things for Mignya.

It wasn't long before he'd brought her home to meet his family, and they had accepted her with opened arms. His mother had been particularly grateful that he'd found someone new. Even Shelley seemed to really like her, which was shocking, to say the least. In all honesty, life for Stan had become rather harmonious and, much to his surprise, as the months wore on he occasionally felt like he wanted to see Craig. He missed him at times, and a really big part of him wanted to share these new, exciting things with him. In fact, as time wore on and that hurt he held started to heal, he even experienced moments of empathy for him. Still, despite the forgiveness threatening to seize hold of his heart, he hadn't managed to muster up the courage to confront his lost sibling and try to fix things. Mignya had urged him on several occasions; he just didn't feel ready.

…

Craig could feel his heart racing as he stepped out of the truck. There was a car in the parking lot, which he assumed belonged to Mr. Mackey. He had called him on his way, feeling like he couldn't do this alone. He'd never tell anyone else, but Mr. Mackey's steady counseling had been a great comfort to him through the past year. He'd grown sort of fond of their time together, a soft place in his heart for his old counselor.

As he approached the small, maroon car he spotted Mr. Mackey, awkwardly getting out and hiding his hands in the warmth of his pockets. It was cold out – the kind of chill that pierced your lungs when you tried to breathe.

"You don't have a jacket…aren't you cold?" he asked as he approached Craig.

"I have one. It's in the truck. I took it off."

Mr. Mackey opened his mouth briefly, as though he were going to command Craig to be sane and put it on, but he thought better of it. Craig knew he wanted to scold him, but he didn't want his jacket. He needed to feel the pins and needles pinching his body without mercy – he just wanted to _feel_.

Neither of them spoke as they walked side by side, the gentle crunching of their footsteps atop frost bitten grass, the wind cold and relentless as it filled the air between them. It was deafening. It was crowding. It was consuming. Craig wanted to be swallowed up; he wanted to be carried away.

It felt like an eternity as they walked, dread inching further and further throughout Craig's slender body. If only the icy pinch of the wind could numb his emotions the way it did his person. Unfortunately, it did not.

As the two slowed, Craig's eyes settled upon the green marble gravestone. It was large, seeing as it housed three people. His grandmother had tended to the details; the funeral, the burial. He felt a pang of guilt, realizing he should've helped her back then.

His stomach ached as he instinctively reached his thin, cold fingers out and traced the indentations on the gravestone. Thomas. Laura. Tricia. Oh, how badly it hurt as he traced the outlines of their names; the years of their births – the years of their deaths. It was a profound, pulling, nagging pain that he'd been stuffing down for months on end. Still, he did not cry. Rather, much to the surprise of his counselor, he grabbed the top of the gravestone for balance and hurled violently beside it. Great. He'd vomited on their grave; how nice of him after waiting so long to visit.

Much to his frustration, Mr. Mackey immediately placed a hand on his back and started to pat.

"It's okay, mmkay. It's okay," he mumbled, trying his best to be comforting. Craig decided he didn't mind the support. It was admittedly soothing.

"Ugh…Jesus…" he muttered as he wiped his mouth, doing his best to ignore the vomit he'd left behind.

"It'll get cleaned up, don't worry about it," Mr. Mackey assured, aware of Craig's embarrassment.

Craig nodded, looking pale. He had dark circles under his normally brightened eyes. He looked older; far more adult. He'd changed a lot since the accident. He'd matured, becoming strong in a way that wasn't false bravado like before. He'd grown past that sort of behavior; all that was left to do was confront the one thing he'd managed to avoid until now.

"Did you want to say something to them?" Mr. Mackey asked, unsure if he should give Craig some space.

"No. Just stay here with me, please," he replied.

The counselor nodded, bowing his head respectfully as Craig stared at the mass grave. It was time. A heavy silence settled between them, the loud wind seeming to fall away from Craig's sensory input as he shut his eyes and allowed himself to think about her. He'd resented her so much for what she'd done, and at times he'd even felt like he hated her for it; not affording him the opportunity or respect of knowing who he really was and where he'd come from. However, as he stood there, knowing she lay just beneath his feet, he did his best to let go of that anger. He located a memory in the darkest recesses of his mind. A memory he'd most certainly repressed; long, long forgotten.

…

_He was young. It had been his fifth birthday. The party was fun, themed like superheroes to the full extent that it always was. His mom always went out of her way to make sure his birthday was special. She wanted to make sure he knew how much he mattered to her, even when he was small. The bond they'd had was closer than that of her and his sister._

_By the day's end he was so tired, his bright red lips popsicle stained, a sweetness lingering on his tongue as he fought his exhausted little body. He had been allowed to stay up late after his party to watch some TV. There were some adult cartoons on, which he didn't really understand, but he enjoyed watching the pretty women and obnoxious men anyway. However, even though he wanted to stay up and keep watching the naughty cartoon, he was just too tired. He'd clutched a small stuffed bear to his chest, lazily slinking off to his room for bed._

_As he trudged down the halls in his cozy pajamas, he heard angry voices seeping beneath the door of his parents' bedroom. He knew he shouldn't have, but he halted near their door, quietly pressing his small ear against it. The bear fell. Why were they arguing? Everyone had been so happy that day…_

_"I can't believe that asshole actually tried to show up today," Thomas griped, something being slammed shut or yanked open; Craig couldn't tell._

_"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told him about the party. I just…he asked me. He was interested in Craig's…"_

_"You told him to come!? Why the hell would you do that, Laura? You know I don't want him anywhere near our son! He's MY son, not his!" Thomas said forcefully, though he was obviously watching his volume._

_Craig felt nervous. Why were they fighting about him? Who had come to the party that wasn't supposed to? He vaguely remembered the doorbell ringing at some point, but he'd hardly paid any attention when no one else came inside._

_"I don't want you giving him that present, Laura. I'm serious. That man is not his father; he's a goddamn sperm donor. He doesn't get to just show up and give my child gifts. He is irrelevant to us," Thomas resumed, though he sounded less harsh._

_He could hear his mom crying. He swallowed, nervous. He knew he shouldn't have been listening. However, just as he was about to pull his tiny ear away from the door and go to bed, it opened, causing him to lose his balance and fall with the full weight of his being into his mother's petite frame. He remembered the comforting warmth of her squishy, post-baby tummy._

_"Craig…I thought you were watching TV," she said, clearly surprised at the child suddenly snuggled against her._

_He quickly wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled his face into her comforting belly. She was small, and soft, and perfect to him. Her body was the most comfortable place in the world. He clutched onto her as she wiped her tears away, trying her best to hide the fight. He didn't even see his father; he hadn't wanted to. He'd only craved the comfort of his mother, frightened and confused by what he had heard._

_"Come here, sweetie," she cooed softly as she scooped him up, arm firm under his bum._

_He wrapped his small arms around her neck and nestled in just beneath her ear. He could feel her long, blonde hair tickling the side of his cheek. He melted into her like butter, barely noticing as she carried him into his room. He was reluctant to let go as he felt her weight settle into his bed; much to his relief she didn't make him. She simply shifted him to the side and laid down next to him. He released just long enough to snuggle back in with her._

_"I'm sorry if you heard that. Sometimes mommies and daddies have disagreements," she explained, aware that he'd been eavesdropping._

_He didn't say anything. He was embarrassed that he'd been caught, as much as a child his age could be. She rubbed his head and kissed his cheek._

_"Here," she said quietly, pulling a small trinket out of the pocket of her silky robe._

_"What's that?" he asked, reaching out to grab it._

_"It's one last present for you," she answered, gently placing it into his hand._

_He focused his eyes, realizing what it was: a small, black superhero watch he'd been asking for. Ever since he'd become aware of the idea of time he'd become obsessed with it. It wasn't a big gift, or even the gift he'd wanted most, but he really liked it and he was happy to have it._

_"Thanks mommy. It's cool," he smiled, quickly putting it on his wrist, listening to the quiet tick-tock._

_"It's not from me, Honey. It's from a friend of mine, but I will tell him you said thank you."_

_Too distracted by his watch, he didn't feel the need to ask whom it was from. He figured it was probably the person his parents had been fighting about, but he didn't really care anymore. He was sleepy and comfortable, so he simply nodded and nuzzled back into the nape of his mother's neck, sleep taking over with ease._

…

Craig felt as though something were physically tugging at his heart as he let the weight of his repressed memory settle over him. She had tried to tell him in her own way. It wasn't her fault. He could imagine how complicated it must've been, trying to keep his father's insecurity at bay while also enduring the conflict over the relationship he should've had with Randy. He especially understood after agonizing over his affair with Wendy for so long; often times, it was so hard to balance the desires of one's own heart with the needs of those you loved. She had failed. He had failed. They weren't as different as he'd liked to have thought.

"I think I can forgive her," he said quietly, placing his numb, freezing hand upon the top of the gravestone once more.

Mr. Mackey nodded before placing his hand on Craig's shoulder. Craig leaned into him, a few quiet tears falling down his cheeks, before wiping them off and allowing his counselor to lead him back to the car. Not another word was spoken between them – their time together had reached its end.


	20. Forgiveness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ending: Stan and Craig see each other for the first time in a very long time.

Wendy shifted uncomfortably in the bed. She'd been waking every so often, even though she was thoroughly exhausted. She groaned as she rolled over and lifted her phone to check the time. 3 am. What was going on? She sat herself up, looking around their darkened room. Craig was fast asleep beside her. He'd been working his ass off trying to take care of her, which she greatly appreciated. As soon as she had this baby and got through the first few months, she fully intended to find herself a job so it wasn't all on him. They'd decided there really wasn't much point in her working until that was over with. She reached out and gently ran her fingers through his black hair, a little caught by surprise as she felt a strange pressure in her abdomen and back. Was this it?

She slid out of bed carefully, trudging out of the room toward the restroom. However, just as she reached the doorway she felt a sudden warmth. She looked down at the ground, realizing her water had broken. It was time.

"Craig…Craig…" she said loudly.

He immediately sat up, rubbing his eyes, "what is it? Are you okay?"

"It's time. The baby is coming."

"Oh!" he gasped as he hurried out of bed and assessed the situation.

"We have some time…I don't feel too much yet. I'm going to shower before we leave," she explained, smiling affectionately toward him.

"Okay," he said, obviously very flustered.

As she went to take her shower he grabbed the bag they'd prepared ahead for this day and cooked up some toast for them both. They ate together and he showered, too. Eventually her contractions started to hurt with a ferocity she hadn't quite expected and Craig decided it was time for them to go. When they arrived at the hospital she was quickly admitted into a good sized, private room for the birthing process. He held onto her hand through the contractions, which had grown so painful that she was vomiting and, when she ran out of contents, dry heaving with each one. Once she'd finally been given an epidural she calmed down, giving Craig a few minutes to send out some texts to let people know she was in labor. Many, many hours passed before she was finally ready to push, but the time did arrive.

Craig held up one of her legs as a nurse held onto the other, an older doctor crouched down and peering, waiting for the baby's head to emerge. Craig was thoroughly in awe as she pushed, screaming and grunting as she struggled to get this tiny, new life out of her body. It took her about an hour, but finally the baby emerged. Wendy peered over herself as the doctor whisked the baby away.

"It's a girl!" Craig exclaimed as she squeezed her hand.

Wendy started to cry tears of relief and joy as she leaned back. They could hear their newborn daughter start to cry as the doctor brought her back over and laid her down upon Wendy's chest. Wendy and Craig both stared at her in absolute awe; she was the most perfect, beautiful thing either of them had ever seen in their entire lives. Craig leaned his head against Wendy's, his eyes fixated on his brand new daughter. He also had quiet tears of joy sliding down his handsome face as he marveled at the miracle before him.

After a little while had passed and Craig had gotten a chance to hold his daughter, a nurse came in and helped explain to Wendy how to nurse the baby. Craig decided to take the opportunity to go out into the waiting room and see the people who had come. As he emerged and spotted Randy and Sharon, he felt a little overwhelmed by his emotions. He strode right over to them, a big smile on his face.

"It's a girl! We have a baby girl!" he said as Randy and Sharon stood to greet him.

"I have a granddaughter!?" Randy asked, amazed at the whole thing himself.

"Yeah," Craig responded as the two of them embraced.

Sharon smiled at him as he turned to look at her. The two of them hadn't really seen each other since the day of the barbecue. She knew he wasn't sure where he stood with her, so she quickly pulled him in for an embrace, squeezing him tight. Enough time had passed; he was forgiven.

"Do you guys want to see her?" he asked as he separated from Sharon, grateful for the hug she'd given him.

They both said yes emphatically, causing him to beam even more.

"Okay, come on," he said, gesturing for them to follow.

He peeked into the room to make sure Wendy was done nursing before opening the door up and leading the Marsh's inside. Wendy was definitely a little nervous to see the Marsh's, but she and Craig had discussed what this day would be like long before it had happened. She understood that Randy was his father, which meant she was going to have to find a way to continue on in her relationship with the Marsh's. She was a solid part of their family now, having mothered Randy's only grandchild.

Randy came up beside her and smiled, staring in amazement at the baby in her arms. He looked toward Wendy and touched her head affectionately for a moment.

"You did good work here, Wendy. She's beautiful. Can I hold her?"

Wendy smiled appreciatively as she carefully passed her daughter over to him. He stood up and cradled her, making silly baby noises toward her. Sharon stood beside him, touching the baby's cheek with her finger. Even though she wasn't technically her grandchild, she felt a deep connection immediately, a sensation she hadn't expected. She took a turn holding the baby and then, when she'd had her fill, she gently passed her back to Wendy. She looked at her and remembered for a moment just what it's like to welcome your first child into the world. She'd found it harder to forgive Wendy for what had happened, but she also understood they were going to have to find a way to get past it. She reached out and brushed some of her hair out of her face, offering her a smile.

"She's perfect, Wendy. I'm very happy for you both."

Wendy smiled at Sharon; it had all gone very well. She'd been worried they might come in and give her the cold shoulder, but they were very gracious and kind. Whether it was genuine or not, she appreciated the sentiment and knew it would be possible to forge some kind of relationship, or at the very least a truce, moving forward.

"What did you guys decide to name her?" Randy asked as he walked up beside Craig and pulled him close, squeezing his shoulder affectionately.

"Morgan. Morgan Marie Tucker," Wendy said proudly.

Craig felt a lump in his throat as she said it out loud. Yes. Another Tucker was officially a living, breathing person. What an unexpected journey this had all turned out to be.

…

Six months later…

Kyle stood nervously on the other side of the building, waiting for his cue. The venue was small and they hadn't invited a lot of people, but the whole thing had him out of his mind with jitters. Stan noticed and tapped his shoulder, grabbing his attention.

"Chill out, Kyle. This is a good day, don't get all worked up."

"I know, I know," he insisted, leaning forward and listening close. He would be walking out any minute now.

Stan turned around and glanced at Kenny, shaking his head with amusement. It wasn't much longer before it was time for Kyle to emerge and walk up the aisle. Eric was standing up at the alter, also looking pretty nervous. Stan made his way up behind Kyle, and Kenny went and stood over by Eric. As the officiant started to speak, Stan scanned the small crowd of guests in attendance. The Broflovskis and Liane were there, Butters, Token, Clyde, Bebe, Red, The McCormicks, his own parents, Mignya, and behind everyone he spotted Craig, Wendy, and their baby girl. He'd known they were going to be there, but it still was a little jarring to see them. As he looked them over, Craig's eyes met his. He quickly averted them, focusing on the ceremony as best he could.

The ceremony was short and sweet, and the venue was small. Kyle and Cartman had chosen to keep it that way, neither of them wanting to make a huge fuss. Well, at least Kyle hadn't. From what Stan had heard, Eric was all about a making a fuss, but Kyle had talked him out of it and he'd embraced a more intimate experience. As they said their vows and kissed, it didn't really feel like the venue mattered anyway.

Once the ceremony concluded, they were immediately gathered up for some photographs. It took around thirty minutes or so to knock that out, and then they went inside for food and speeches. Both Stan and Kenny said a few words, and then that was really it. The party was in full swing as drinks were flowing amongst the older adults and food was starting to come out. They ate up at the table set aside for the wedding party, and when he was finished Stan immediately went to the bar to get a couple of sodas for him and Mignya. She was beside him, taking her beverage and pulling him aside.

"Are you going to talk to him?" she prodded.

"Yes…yes. I don't think there's any avoiding it," he said hesitantly.

"You should, Stan. He's your brother," she insisted.

She'd been at him ever since the baby had been born to make amends. He had to admit, it was a little painful for him not to have met his niece. He just wasn't sure how to approach it. He wasn't exactly hurting about any of it anymore. It was just that he wasn't sure how you mended fences with someone who'd done something like that to you. Mignya insisted it was not only possible, but necessary. She was always reminding him that family comes first and all of that. She was right, but he still found the whole thing incredibly stressful.

He scanned the room and spotted them. They were over at their table. Craig had his daughter lifted up, and he looked like he was blowing raspberries on her chubby cheeks. She was laughing hysterically, which had him laughing as well. Morgan had jet black hair, though there wasn't very much of it yet. They'd put a little bow on her head and she had on the biggest, poofiest little dress. It was very adorable.

"Come with me," Stan said nervously as he grabbed Mignya's hand.

He felt butterflies in his stomach as he approached. Wendy noticed him coming first, and she grabbed onto Craig's arm. He looked at her and then realized she was looking past him. He turned to see Stan, immediately standing up and holding his daughter against his side.

"Stan…" he said awkwardly, neither of them moving any closer.

Stan looked at him nervously before gesturing toward his niece.

"So, this is Morgan then? I've heard all about her."

"Yeah…yeah, this is Morgan."

Another tense moment passed as Craig stared at Stan, a little astonished that he'd actually come to talk to him. He felt giddy and nervous. Stan smiled at him, wanting to ease the tension.

"Can I hold her?"

"Yeah…of course!" Craig said happily as he handed her over.

Stan held onto her, taking in her large eyes. They were a darker shade of blue, more like his own than Craig's.

"Hi there little one," he said softly, "I'm your Uncle Stan."

Craig smiled at that. After a moment his eyes landed on the woman beside Stan.

"Hi…I'm Craig," he offered as he held out his hand. She reached out and shook his hand.

"I'm Mignya," she answered.

"Sorry…yes, this is my girlfriend, Mignya," Stan interjected, moving around to keep his smiling niece happy.

"Oh! Hello. I've heard a little about you. It's nice to meet you," he continued to greet her.

Wendy stood up sheepishly beside Craig, realizing she was going to have to join the conversation. Craig touched the small of her back as he introduced her.

"This is my fiancée, Wendy…" he felt horribly nervous as he said that out loud. He wasn't sure if Stan knew they were engaged. He'd asked her about a month ago and she'd said yes, even though he didn't have a ring because they were honestly scraping by financially. His nervous eyes met Stan's, and he was surprised to see a calm, measured look on his face. He didn't appear to be upset.

Mignya greeted Wendy with a warm hug, wanting her to feel comfortable. The situation could obviously be very uncomfortable if she let it be, but she was really happy with Stan and understood that, if they were to move forward, she was going to have to be okay with Wendy. She was going to be his sister-in-law, so it seemed.

Stan's eyes met Wendy's. She looked horribly anxious about everything; he decided he should put her mind at ease, too. He stepped forward and handed Morgan back over to her.

"She's adorable. You two made a damn cute kid. I'm happy for you guys…really."

Craig stared at him, tears nagging at the backs of his eyes.

"Stan…I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for the way everything went down between us all…"

"It's alright. It really is, Craig. I've moved past it."

Craig nodded, unsure where that left them. Stan cleared his throat and continued.

"Craig…you're my brother. I love you. I've really missed you. I've thought about reaching out to you more times than I can count…I just wasn't sure what to say. Can we put all of this shit behind us and just be brothers again?"

Craig smiled as a tear fell down his face.

"God damnit, I love you, too," he mumbled as he wiped it away, frustrated that he was getting emotional.

Stan let out a laugh. Craig eyed him for a moment before quickly stepping forward and embracing Stan hard. Stan wrapped his arms around him and squeezed him in tight, too. They both laughed a bit as they let go of the tension and the pain. It had been such a long, long journey. As they separated Craig wiped at his face again, so incredibly grateful for the forgiveness. The final weight had been lifted.

"Alright…enough of this mushy stuff. Let's go celebrate," Stan insisted, smiling warmly at Wendy. She smiled back, a quiet knowing between them both.

She reached out and laced her fingers with Craig's. As Stan and his girlfriend moved away from them out onto the dance floor, she and Craig breathed sighs of quiet relief.

"Looks like we actually pulled this off, Tucker," she said playfully.

He let out a laugh, "yeah…looks like we did."

They looked affectionately at one another before leaning in for a kiss, and though it wasn't the family he'd lost, Craig couldn't help but marvel at the fact that he was no longer alone. He felt a deep sense of gratitude as he separated from his fiancée and took in the sight of all that he had gained; a beautiful woman he would soon marry, a daughter that was the light of his life, a father he'd never known he had, an unlikely mother in his wife, a moody and slightly entertaining sister in Shelley, and the best brother he could ever ask for in Stan.

As Stan and Mignya danced around, letting their inhibitions go, he caught Craig's eyes and gestured for him to join them. Craig and Wendy let out relieved laughs as they made their way onto the dance floor, closing the chapter on one of the most painful years of their lives and looking forward to what the next season would bring.


End file.
